The Wild and Wacky Adventures of Edward in PE!
by LindaRoo
Summary: Hilarity ensues when Edward comes back at the end of New Moon and he and Alice get Mrs. Cope to change their schedules to put them in Bella's gym class. How can they appear human when their superhuman athletic aptitudes keep getting in the way?
1. Bella plays soccer

_Author's Note: I wrote this story because some people in the "Edward in PE" thread on the Twilight Lexicon asked me to. It was really fun! Thank you Wendi for beta-reading my rough draft, fixing all of my grammar/spelling issues and for all the wonderful suggestions. This chapter is from Bella's point of view. All characters were created by Stephanie Meyer._

**Bella Playing Soccer**

Edward had resumed his schedule from the beginning of the year, which put him in most of my classes again. There was one minor schedule change, however.

At first I was confused when I heard him explain to a dazzled Mrs. Cope that he'd already finished Physics in L.A. (she had no trouble believing his fib about how his school in L.A. operated in trimesters instead of semesters). It wasn't until I looked at the new schedule that she printed out for him that I realized…to my complete horror…that he'd arranged his schedule so that we would have gym together.

I barely registered his velvety voice quietly thanking the flustered secretary. I was too busy trying to push back the feeling of dread that was spreading through the pit of my stomach. This god-like creature—whom I'd seen hit baseballs so hard that they ended up in other counties—didn't belong in the same universe as someone as klutzy as me, let alone the same gym class. I racked my brain for possible motives.

On one hand, he could just be trying to show off. That would certainly annoy Mike Newton—my ever-shafted admirer—who still came to my rescue every gym class despite over a year of me returning the favor with nothing but a consistent stream of polite rejection. I tried to picture the two of them pit against each other in tennis. No matter how I mentally altered the match, it always ended with Mike being subtly shown up in his favorite sport. I felt a surge of pity. On the other hand, there was the sickening possibility that Edward had switched classes simply because he found the potential entertainment value of the "bumbling Bella show" too good to pass up. I imagined him grinning in amusement as I stumbled around making a fool of myself. Humiliations galore. As we left the little office to walk to first hour, I begged him to switch to another gym class. Any other gym class. He wouldn't budge.

"Bella," he said, his angel's eyes pleading. "After all this time away from you, I don't want to waste a second!" he whirled around, catching my hands in his. "I just wanted more time with you. I thought that you'd be surprised and pleased," he murmured, a touch of hurt staining his satiny voice.

"More surprised than pleased," I said stiffly, forcing myself not to melt in his presence as his scent swept over me. _Just breathe, _I thought.

"What's wrong? Do you need space?" he said suddenly.

"What?" I asked in bewilderment as I watched worry flit across his perfect face.

"Am I doing this all wrong?" he said in a rush of words. "Am I smothering you? I know how much I hurt you…if all this is just too much…if I'm coming on too strong…" he suddenly looked self-conscious. I laughed, unable to believe that he was concerning himself with winning me back.

"No, silly. It's not that," I said. He stared at me, looking frustrated. I momentarily forgot our argument as I realized that after seven months absence I'd failed to remember just how lovely he looked when he was frustrated.

"What is it then?" he blurted out impatiently, after a few seconds of my silence. "I still can't read your mind, you know."

"I look like an idiot in gym," I said, stating the obvious. "I'd prefer for you not to be utterly embarrassed that we're together." He laughed out loud.

"Oh! Is _that_ all?" he said in relief. I scowled at him, and he laughed again. He put his arms around me and pulled me close.

"I could never be embarrassed by you," he whispered in my ear. "You're my whole world." My heart thudded as I inhaled the dizzying fragrance that my memory had simply not been able to capture in its entirety. The bell rang. He sighed as he pulled away from me, and we hurried to class. As we walked, I found myself wondering if Alice could see any futures that didn't involve me being humiliated in fifth hour.

When I asked her about that over lunch I was distraught to realize that Edward wasn't the only one who'd dazzled Mrs. Cope. The pixie-like vampire had "mysteriously" ended up with a schedule change that placed her in my gym class as well. _Not her too…_I thought. An image of the three-foot hurdles that coach set up last spring on the outdoor track sprang to mind. I'd gotten to miss that activity last year thanks to my broken leg, but the track and field sessions were coming up again within the month. I imagined Alice leaping over each barrier with superhuman grace, effortlessly as a gazelle. I tried to figure out how I would make it over even one without toppling it. The knot in my stomach tightened. I insisted over and over that I'd rather her not be there, but she acted as though she hadn't heard me. I eventually gave up arguing, and ate my lunch in silence, trying to communicate with every fiber of my being that I was angry with them. It was hard to do when my heart was still bubbling with the unbelievable realization that they were both actually here…right here…sitting in front of me…fighting for the right to be near me.

The first day wasn't so bad. We played dodge ball. Every time a ball came my way Alice or Edward would leap in front of me, either letting the ball hit one of them (in their attempts to appear normal), or catching it so they could be "it", and throw the ball at everyone BUT me. It didn't escape my notice that every time Alice was "it" that Tyler Crowley would end up doubled over because the gym ball had hit him in the stomach.

The second day was worse. Though it was overcast as always, the weatherman had predicted several days with a low chance of rain (Alice confirmed this prediction). This allowed Coach Clapp the rare opportunity to plan a series of outdoor sports, starting with soccer. Conner was made captain of one team, while Lauren was made captain of the other. Conner—who had always been nice to me—picked me first. I was certain that it was out of pity. Lauren, who'd never really gotten over her Cullen obsession, picked both Edward and Alice to be on her team. If either of them disliked this arrangement, their faces said nothing about it. Alice actually seemed slightly triumphant, and I noticed that she raised one eyebrow at her brother. I could almost sense them having some kind of a private conversation, glancing back and forth between each other, their eyes occasionally flitting to me. I frowned. They were up to something.

My team made me goalie. They probably thought that if I had less running and more standing around to do that I would have the least chance of tripping and breaking my neck. Mike and Tyler volunteered to be on defense. I figured that it was so they could jump in front of me whenever anything came toward the goal. From my place between the goal posts, I couldn't help but stare at the beautiful bronze-haired boy down the field, who was busy bouncing the ball from one knee to the other. He looked like a World Cup pro, of course. Despite my bad mood, I had to smile. Only he could make pasty white legs in seventies gym shorts look attractive. When the whistle blew, he dribbled the ball gracefully down the field, looking quite bored. I fumed with jealousy. Why did Edward have to be perfect at _everything_?

The game started out okay. It was right after lunch and the Mexican food we'd had was a little too spicy. Since everyone was feeling a little queasy from the cafeteria food, the game moved at a sluggish pace, which I didn't mind...the ball only came near me three times. The first two of those times, Mike came to my rescue, blocking the shots before they had a chance to even get to me. The third time, however, as I was distractedly ogling at Edward…hardly able to believe that he was really, truly, honestly back…he looked at me with a gleam in his eye and suddenly kicked the ball towards my goal. It hit my unsuspecting foot, bounced off, and flew down the field. To anyone who hadn't been watching closely enough, it would have appeared that I'd blocked Edward's shot, saving my team from losing the lead. Mike and Tyler cheered, slapping me high fives, celebrating the first athletic success of my high school career. The coach blew the whistle, signaling the end of the game. My team had won, one to zero. I stared at Edward in disbelief. He grinned crookedly, eyes twinkling. I turned on my heel and stalked to the locker room, furious.

"Nice save," Alice said casually, as I slammed my locker shut. I glared at her.

"What?" she asked. Her gorgeous eyes widened in a hurt expression that I saw through in an instant.

"Oh shut up," I hissed. "You know. I know. You know I know. So stop pretending...it's just plain insulting." I undressed in a hurry, refusing to meet her eye. As I stepped into the shower area, my foot hit a soapy patch of tile and I began to slip. A hard, icy hand gripped my elbow, preventing me from falling. I sighed.

"Does becoming a vampire automatically make one patronizing and overprotective for all eternity?" I asked irritably.

"We're just trying to make your life easier," she said. Her face was apologetic. "After all the hell you went through since we left, it's not like we're going to let anything hurt you ever again."

"There's a difference between the dangers of a bloodthirsty vampire who wants to revenge the death of her mate and the dangers of getting hit by a soccer ball," I pointed out.

"Actually, for you there isn't," she said. "You would have gotten a concussion out there if it hadn't been for us." She pointed to her head. "I know things."

"Not my fault that I can't be graceful and perfect at everything like _some _people," I muttered. Alice patted my shoulder.

"Soon," she whispered. Her golden eyes glowed in anticipation, hiding something I couldn't quite decipher. I wondered what she was seeing—what unbeknownst fragments of my future were dancing in her mind. The shivers I got up my spine weren't due to the cold of her hand. I felt a little better as I changed back into my jeans and t-shirt.

_After graduation,_ I thought to myself.


	2. Edward plays baseball

_Author's note: I decided to continue the story, and to write each chapter from a different character's point of view. Edward's perspective now. I know it's twice as long as Bella's...but that's just Edward! A big thanks to my beta, Wendi, for all her suggestions and corrections...and for being the one who came up with the idea for this fic in the first place! All characters were created by Stephanie Meyer._

**Edward Playing Baseball**

I literally heard the roar of the ancient red truck from a mile away. Not many people could boast the "literally" part of that statement, but then again, not many people were undead teenagers with supersonic hearing either. The straining engine emitted an irritating squeal as metal ground on metal somewhere in the bowels of the rusty monstrosity. I wrinkled my nose with distaste. The fact that Jacob Black had rebuilt the vehicle made me like it even less. I tried to picture her in the sporty little Audi coup that I'd nearly purchased as a present for her disastrous birthday party last fall. Maybe—if I was lucky—she'd let me buy it for her for graduation. In my book, anyways, a German sports car was a better present than the "gift" Carlisle had promised her.

The enormous truck rumbled into the parking lot and pulled to a stop in the empty parking space next to my Volvo. As the small girl in the driver's seat turned the key to silence the engine, every muscle in my body flinched into rigidity, preparing for the onslaught I knew was coming.

_Five…four…three…two…one… _

The truck's door opened. I squeezed my eyes shut and braced myself as the scent hit me like a ton of bricks. I swallowed the venom that oozed unbidden in my mouth, sending my aching stomach into spasms. My mind reeled, my throat burned, and I felt my lumbar spine arch involuntarily as I struggled to maintain control. As I clenched my teeth, I dug my fingernails into my palms, willing the pain in my hands to distract me from the aching need running through every sinew in me. I was ready to jump out of my skin—every instinct demanded that I kill.

_Breathe Edward…just breathe…_I thought. I steadied myself, concentrating on taking air in through my nose and out through my mouth. I'd long ago given up the strategy of not breathing around her—it made it too hard to talk. What's the point of having an excellent vocabulary in seven languages if you don't even get to use it to impress your girlfriend? I kept my eyes closed as I heard the _thwap_ of two sneakers landing on the pavement and the slam of the creaky truck door. I analyzed the sound of her gait as she rounded the front of the truck, suffering silently.

For all the pain she caused me, I had to admit that the struggle was far more tolerable than it used to be. Even though she smelled just as wonderful and just as terrible as ever, I knew that she wasn't really in any danger from me anymore. It'd taken months of practice, but I'd finally perfected the art of chaining up the hunger within me when it begged for relief. Whenever it reared its ugly head, I violently shoved it down with the unbridled power that she kindled in me. When I wielded my love for her like a weapon, the creature backed down, submissively ducking its head and retreating to its cave where it would sulk miserably. Every day I battled it. Every day I won. Mind over matter.

What's more, I'd survived Bella's death, and in a way, my own. The pain gnawing at me now was nothing in comparison to the agony that had ripped me to shreds when I'd stood before the Volturi, begging them for annihilation...knowing that having tasted true love, I couldn't endure spending eternity alone. Without her, I'd felt as though someone had spoken the Deplorable Word, wiping out all life, leaving my world in a sterile shamble of dust and ruin. How could I go on? How could I exist without her? There had been no option but extinction. But just in the nick of time, she'd come to my rescue, racing around the globe to become _my_ savior. The very idea of messing up the precious second chance that we'd been blessed with because I was _thirsty_ was no longer even plausible in my mind. There wasn't a chance that I could murder her…not any more. That didn't mean that it was easy for me now though…not by any means.

"Hi Edward."

"Good morning Bella," I said quietly, in the worshipful voice I reserved only for her. Willing myself to move normally, I opened my eyes and was instantly mesmerized. Before me stood a skinny girl with a pale, heart-shaped face, too-full lips, and tiny hands…the most extraordinary human being I'd met a century.

There were three things in the world that never ceased to astonish me…things too mysterious for me to comprehend. The first was that Bella's mind—the only mind in the world that I really longed to read—was hidden from me. The second was that Bella's blood—the only blood in the world that I really longed to drink—was forbidden from me. The third was that Bella's heart—the only heart in the world that I really longed to win—was already mine.

I hadn't gotten a chance to talk to her after gym the previous day. Alice had sensed a warm front coming into the area that would briefly split the cloud cover over Forks High School. At three o'clock, when school got out, we saw that the parking lot would be bathed in brilliant sunshine. We were forced to ditch sixth hour and leave school in a hurry to avoid suspicion. Since Bella not only had work after school, but was three chapters behind in Calculus, I'd taken Emmett up on his twelve-hour family paintball challenge. Even Esme and Carlisle had joined in for that one. Jasper had amped up everyone's fight or flight response, makeing the whole experience intoxicatingly thrilling. The seven of us had raced around the woods with glee, hiding in trees and shooting from behind rocks...smearing one another with the oily neon-colored goo. In the end, Alice had won, though I had to let the rest of the family know that she cheated. She "saw" Emmet sneaking up behind her and used the opportunity to slam him with no less than fifty-seven paintballs. Rosalie had somehow ended up in the river, plastered with thick brown mud. It'd been immeasurably fun, as much fun as I was capable of having without Bella, but the longing to return to her underscored the whole experience like an itch. Had it really only been eighteen hours since I saw her shocked expression on the soccer field? It felt like eternity. I smiled tenderly at her, losing myself in those wide brown eyes. I reached to touch her face, enthralled…fascinated. To my surprise, she ducked away and glared at me.

I frowned, confused. I hadn't expected this. I examined her guarded posture, flashing eyes, and pressed lips, deducing that she must be angry. It was always so hard to tell with her. My usual way of knowing that someone had issues with me was the gushing stream of livid thoughts boring into my head from theirs.

"Edward Anthony Masen Cullen…" she said icily. Despite her biting tone, I wasn't convinced. Her heart was pounding—not in the deep steady pulse of true anger—but erratically, the way it always did when she was thrilled to see me. What was this? Was she playing a game? I decided to play along.

"Isabella Marie Swan…" I replied in a light, mocking tone. I bowed, still painfully aware of the mouth-watering aroma tumbling off of her. "To what do I owe the honor of your apparent wrath?" Her lips parted and she stepped back, looking as though she'd just been insulted.

"As if you didn't know!" she said, scowling. I smirked at her, attempting to "dazzle" her with my eyes. "Oh stop that!" she cried. I froze. She looked like she was going to cry. I dropped the smirk. She really was upset.

"You're angry with me?" I said, bewildered.

"Duh," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Too angry for a kiss?" I whispered seductively, offering a crooked smile as I reached to embrace her. Intentionally, I exhaled once in her direction. Her eyes unfocused slightly and she breathed faster, dizzy. For a moment, she looked helpless, but she quickly regained her composure and wiggled away.

"None of that. I'm not speaking to you until you apologize for that stunt that you pulled yesterday in gym!" she said furiously. I couldn't help myself…I laughed.

"Oh! Is that all?" I said cheerfully. She looked royally put out.

"I don't need you to let me win!" she protested. "How am I supposed to maintain my dignity with you and Alice plotting to make me goalie-girl soccer queen?"

"I'm terribly sorry…I didn't realize that you performing _well_ in a sport would make you look undignified," I said.

"You…you…" her sharp voice trailed off unable to find the right word.

"Horrid bloodthirsty monster?" I finished for her, beaming. She crossed her arms and glowered.

"Apologize!"

"No…I don't think I will," I said, eyes twinkling. "At least not yet." Her brown eyes demanded an explanation, and I bit my lip, grinning helplessly. "You're so _cute _when you're mad."

"FINE!" she shouted. With that, she turned on her heel, storming off towards the school. I started to follow her, but thought better of it and stayed where I was.

"I love you!" I called after her. Though her heart skipped a beat, she didn't look back…instead she muttered something that sounded vaguely like 'stupid-gorgeous-graceful-jerk' as she stomped away. If she had been raised differently, I'm sure that she would have been making rude gestures at me the whole way. I watched her walk, my eyes lingering on the curves of her hips and the shine of her rich hair and let out a resigned sighed.

She had it all wrong, of course. I didn't switch to her gym class to protect her from rogue tennis balls or to ward off all the hormone-filled boys who liked the way her legs looked in volleyball shorts. I had a very practical reason for my change of schedule. What Bella didn't know about me was that the first hour of my acclimating to her scent after being parted from her for long periods of time was invariably difficult—after that hour, it got easier. Getting used to her scent was like swimming in cold water: it was better to just jump in and stay in—getting the initial shock over with at once—than to keep getting in and out. To have to re-acclimate all over again in sixth hour would be quite inconvenient. Doable, of course, but harder. How was I supposed to explain that without frightening her or making her feel bad? _"Hey Bella, I'm sorry, but you can't go to work today, because if you do, I'll have to get used to your scent again. Oh…and you can't go out with any of your friends. Actually, how 'bout if you just have absolutely no life outside of me? It'd ease my suffering considerably."_ I shook my head grimly. There was just no polite way to say something like that. Since good manners were such a rarity in American culture, I'd decided from the very beginning that I'd simply make sure that she never found out just how difficult saying "good morning" was for me. She certainly had enough to worry about without something that morbid hanging over her head.

_Bella and Cullen are fighting…I wasn't expecting that. This is a good omen. Maybe she hasn't forgiven him for dumping her last fall. I still can't believe that he broke up with her. What was he thinking?_

I didn't have to look up to know that it was Mike Newton whose voice was bouncing through the frontal lobe of my cerebral cortex. An irrational wave of annoyance flooded me. The blond boy slammed his car door, hoisted his backpack over his shoulder, and walked towards the building.

_I thought for sure that when Cullen left that I'd finally have a chance with her. There's no way that I could compete with his looks, his money, or even his car…_

I rolled my eyes in exasperation at the inaccuracy of his shallow notions. I knew Bella well enough to know that none of those things served as the basis for our relationship. What exactly it was about me that drew her, however, mystified me. Her life had turned into a walking nightmare since I'd waltzed into it. I followed the baby-faced child from about twenty paces behind, listening to his melodramatic thoughts.

_I've had a crush on her for over a year now. I've tried to move on, but I can't. I want to know her better, but she just won't open up to me. Even when he was gone, it was like she didn't even know that I existed! I went out of my way to be a friend to her at school. I tried talking to her at work. I tried just about everything possible to get her attention, but nothing worked. What's wrong with me? I'm good looking. I'm good at sports. I'm a nice guy. Why is she so oblivious to how much I care?_

I chuckled, despite myself. I matched Mike's pace, and walked by his side.

"Would you like to know why Bella never responded to your advances?" I asked quietly. He started, and then looked at me with a rather stunned expression.

_How the heck did he do that? _Mike thought. _It's like he was reading my mind or something._

"You're too _safe_," I explained in a bored tone. "Too nice, too normal, too predictable. Bella likes men who are dangerous. Not very wise on her part, of course, but it does make her life more interesting."

"She didn't seem to like you much this morning," Mike retorted.

"A minor setback," I replied calmly. "It's nothing."

_So cocky. So overconfident, _Mike thought. _What the heck does she see in him? And what does he mean by "dangerous"? He's not planning on hurting her, is he? I'll kill him if he ever lays a hand on her! _I suppressed a laugh. Somehow "Mike the Vampire-Slayer" didn't sound like a hit show.

As we entered the building, the drone of hundreds of voices filled my head. I let them mingle with the audible voices, refusing to focus on any but his. He was thinking about Bella, therefore, his thoughts mattered to me. He kept quickening his pace, hoping to lose me. I kept up, amused. When we got to first hour, he took a seat as far from me as possible.

Bella stumbled into class two minutes late. She must have been yelling at Alice in the hallway for her contributions to the gym incident. As she self-consciously closed the door behind her, the air in the room swirled and eddied, bombarding me with the scent of her blood. I braced myself once more, waiting with a mixture of dread and gladness for her to take her place by my side. To my disbelief, however, she didn't join me in the back row. Instead she took the only other empty seat in the room, which happened to be next to Newton. Anger erupted in me and I involuntarily let out a hiss of aggression. Eric Yorkie, who was unfortunate enough to be sitting in front of me, turned around and gave me a funny look. I loudly pretended to cough, and the grease-head turned back around, satisfied. I eyed Bella and Mike suspiciously. What on earth could she be up to?

"_I tried to flirt. It worked better than I thought it would."_

I suddenly remembered the words she'd spoken during that fateful car ride home from Port Angeles, and my fury melted as I recalled the way she'd charmed the poor Quileute boy into unwittingly breaking the ancient treaty, revealing my secrets. She was a better flirt than she gave herself credit for. So was that her strategy? Was she trying to force me to apologize by making me jealous? I grinned, entertained. Very well. If she insisted on playing this game, I'd watch with keen interest. It was bound to be more interesting than listening to an English lecture that I could have easily taught.

"Why aren't you sitting next to Cullen?" Mike whispered, leaning towards Bella, carefully avoiding the eye of a very surly Mr. Berty, who was droning on about the spread of Western ideology.

"I don't like him very much right now," she whispered back, glancing at me from the corner of her eye.

"You 'don't like him very much' as in you two are having a little lover's quarrel, or you 'don't like him very much' as in you're no longer dating?" Mike demanded in a low voice.

"That depends," she whispered. "He did something to make me angry. I'm waiting for him to apologize." She glanced my way again…so briefly that it was almost imperceptible…but I knew that she was trying to gauge my reaction. I winked at her. She grimaced.

_I may have a chance. I may have a chance…_Mike thought. I rubbed my hands together in delight. This was going to be good.

For the rest of the day, the charade continued. Bella walked with Mike everywhere, but her eyes were always on me. Every time I caught her looking my way, I'd blow her an obvious kiss and her heart would thud. It was all too easy…she wasn't fooling me for a second. At lunch, she wiggled between Mike and Angela, leaving no room for me, so I merely sat a few tables away by myself, conspicuously watching her as I played with my useless human food. (Alice had a midday rendezvous with Jasper. I didn't bother to ask what they'd be doing. I just hoped that whatever it was, it wasn't in the back seat of the Volvo.)The buzz of curious thoughts that filled the cafeteria let me know that her apparent animosity towards me hadn't gone unnoticed.

_Bella's not sitting with Edward. What? So now she thinks she's too good for even him_? Lauren Mallory's snide thoughts rang out.

_Oh great! _Jessica Stanley seethed. _Now Bella's got Mike drooling all over her again? Isn't it enough that she's dating the hottest guy in the world? Ugh! She makes me sick. She's so anorexic looking now, too! Is that really what guys are into? _She pushed aside her sandwich as if it were infected with the plague and sipped her Aquafina.

… _wonder if we're going to play baseball in gym? It's so nice out today…_thought David Greenman. I breathed a sigh of relief. At least someone in this school was normal.

…_English essay due that I forgot to write. Should I skip class to work on it or just turn it in late…_thought Morgan Jones.

…_oh I hope they didn't break up. She was so miserable without him. I was so relieved when he came back and she could just be happy again…_I smiled. Angela Webber had been rooting for us.

_I could do it now. I've got her here next to me_. _No…not now. What was it that Captain Jack Sparrow said? Oh yeah. 'Not yet. Wait for the opportune moment.' Okay. Now may not be that moment. But I'm going to do it today. Carpe Diem…right? _These pathetically unoriginal thoughts were, of course, from the ever persistent Mike Newton.

"Mike," said Bella suddenly, "I never properly thanked you."

_Huh? What? Oh goodness… she's talking to me! She's thanking me? Am I getting my hopes up for nothing, or does she actually seem into me for once? _Mike wondered. He ran his fingers through his spiky blond hair and cleared his throat. "For what?" he said, voice cracking. Though everyone appeared to be engaged in conversation around them, it was obvious from their thoughts that more than one person was listening in.

_Oh God! The girl has no shame. Listen to her buttering him up to eat him like a crescent roll…_spewed Lauren Mallory's vicious mental tone.

_What in the world? Is Bella flirting with Mike? It can't be. Everyone knows she's totally indifferent to him..._thought Jackie Penoyer.

"For being so nice to me when I was acting like a zombie last fall," Bella said. "For caring about me, even though most other people were treating me like a social outcast. For still being my friend when I was being rude. It meant a lot. I alienated a lot of people because I was depressed. You never gave up on me. Thank you." She was staring into his surprised blue eyes with an expression of genuine gratitude.

_She noticed me. She noticed me! Should I tell her to drop that zero and get with this hero? Gah! That's the lamest line in the world. What's wrong with me? _Mike thought. Bella smiled demurely, looking at him through those thick lashes.

"Bella…" Mike began. But at that moment, the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch. Bella stood, glancing at me quickly out of the corner of her eye. I waved casually, making no secret of the fact that I was enjoying myself. She narrowed her eyes, pausing briefly before she swept off to the girl's locker room.

I whistled cheerily to myself as I shed my khakis and Dr. Martins for Nike sweatpants and tennis shoes.

_He's losing his girlfriend and he has the nerve to be happy?_ Mike's pestilent thoughts drilled into my head. I gave him a mischievous look as I tied my shoes. He glared at me coldly, with utmost loathing.

David Greenman got his wish—Coach Clapp ushered us over to the baseball diamond and had us count off "one, two, one, two," to divide up into teams. I ended up on a team with Bella, Mike and Angela. Alice, Tyler and Conner were on the opposite team, along with the snotty girls with the poisonous thoughts.

_Hey Edward! _Alice thought. I glanced her way. Her entire posture was relaxed, her jet-black hair was royally mussed up, and her skin was less pale than usual. Jasper's potent aroma hung about her like a cloud of sweet perfume. I gave her a knowing look, which she ignored.

_Is Bella raging mad at you? _She asked. I looked up at the sky, then down at the grass. She sighed. _She's going to try to get back at you. You need to be careful. _I grinned hugely, shrugging. She cast me a wary look with her honey-colored eyes.

Our team lost the coin toss, so Alice's team got to bat first. My team made me pitcher. Bella was stuck out in right field where Mike—who was on second base—could cover her position if need be. I sighed. Gym was always a nuisance, but baseball was especially bad. Carlisle's thunderstorm athletic events had ruined all of us for the ordinary. It wasn't just that we had to dumb down our skills and move all slowly that made the farce unenjoyable—it was the uncomfortable risk that one of us would accidentally hurt a human if we didn't control our strength. I felt sorry for our team's catcher.

The game was dreadfully boring. Over and over I tossed the ball with less than a hundredth of the strength I was typically capable of hurling it, but it still wasn't human enough. The first three players quickly struck out.

_Edward…_my tiny, pixie-like sister thought disapprovingly, as she passed me on her way to the outfield. I playfully swept her into a rough brotherly hug, lifting her struggling little body off the ground.

"Don't do anything stupid now," she warned me. I probed her mind, but it was too late. I'd missed whatever vision it was that she'd just had. Oh well. Couldn't have been _too _bad, could it?

On the bench, I kept making eyes at Bella, trying to get her attention, which she ignored as she pretended to hang on Mike's every word. Finally, it was my turn to bat. Tyler Crowley wound up, preparing to pitch the ball to me.

_Now's the time! I better not mess this up, _came Mike's thoughts from the bench."Hey Bella," he said. She glanced up. "You're not going to prom with Cullen again this year, are you?"

"With _Edward_," she corrected. She paused. "No, actually…I'm not going with him."

_WHAT? _I turned, incredulous, to stare at the both of them. Since wedding plans were apparently out the window, I'd turned my romantic schemes to devising an elaborately complicated prom agenda. Alice had bought material for her dress and had been working on a design. I had a tux picked out and had scrounged the fields of the forest for the perfect wildflowers to make into a corsage for her. I'd composed and recorded a CD of romantic music to play in the Aston Martin that night. I'd hidden several little surprise presents in locations all over the mansion, which I was planning for her find through means of a scavenger hunt. She couldn't possibly be thinking about going with someone else. Flirting with Mike to make me jealous was one thing. Foiling my plans for prom night was hitting below the belt.

"STRIKE ONE!" the coach cried. I looked up, dazed. Tyler's ball had whizzed right by me. Bella's face was smug. The catcher tossed the ball back at Tyler. I angrily gripped the bat a little too hard. The wood splintered slightly beneath my icy fingers.

"Well then," Mike continued. "If you're not going with Edward, is it because you already told that kid from La Push that you'd take him? Is that what it is? Did you already commit to him?"

I froze. Jealousy bubbled over me like a fever, exploding in a blast of fury. Mike had named the only person in the world with the power to threaten the foundation of my existence. Images I'd seen in the dog's head flashed through my mind unbidden: Black and Bella curled up in each other's arms, sitting on the beach; Black and Bella hanging out in his garage, laughing as he tinkered on some engine; Black climbing through Bella's window late at night, sitting on her bed, sharing secrets with her. I cringed as the worst image came to mind. I saw Bella's face in his hands as he leaned in, ready to press his lips against hers. I couldn't stop the swells of indignation that cried out for the filthy werewolf to get his hands off of her. One from my own memory swirled to join the rest: Black crashing prom last year to steal a dance with her, delivering a warning from the Pack. His foul presence had marred an otherwise perfect evening. She wouldn't dare go to prom with him…would she?

"STRIKE TWO!" the coach cried. I suddenly jerked out of my thoughts, realizing that I was supposed to be playing baseball, and that even by dismal human standards, I wasn't doing it well. I spit venom on the ground in frustration.

"No," Bella said, shaking her head. "Jake's not even speaking to me right now. I never asked him to go with me anyways."

"Well then," said Mike, sounding much braver than he had before. "I was wondering...would you like to go with me?"

Tyler wound the ball back and hurled it straight towards me. This time I was ready…more than ready…I was seething. Vile Mike Newton had the audacity to ask Bella Swan—my Bella Swan—to prom. I'd teach him a lesson he'd never forget. Using my super-human vision, I measured with remarkable accuracy the velocity of the approaching ball, the speed and direction of the wind, the trajectory of the ball's approach, and the distance from the home plate to Mike's car. I solved the vector problem in my head, and determined the exact measure of force (in Newtons, ironically) that it would take to send the ball smashing through Mike's windshield. I knew that I wasn't thinking rationally, but I didn't care. There had to be justice. I slammed the bat into the ball and sent it whizzing over the fence, straight into the parking lot.

_EDWARD!_ Alice's voice shouted in my head. _YOU IMBICILE! I WARNED YOU NOT TO DO IT! WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU??? _But it was too late. I heard the sound of glass shattering in the distance as I rounded first base.

"Mike…" I heard from across the field. "I'm very flattered, but I'm afraid that I'm not going to the dance at all," Bella said sheepishly.

_What was that? _I thought, skidding effortlessly into the home plate.

_What was that? _Mike thought, his Hummer limousine plans dissipating from his disappointed mind in a poof of smoke.

_What was that? _Alice thought, her dreams of Bella all dolled up in a black and silver strapless satin gown swirling quickly down the drain.

"I'm sorry Mike," said Bella in a serious voice, "I know you don't want to hear this…but I'm going to Seattle that weekend."


	3. JUST FOR FUN

**JUST FOR FUN: Edward's Vector Problem**

Edward solved this vector problem in his head in a fraction of a second! Can you solve it at all?

It's finally your turn to bat. You are standing over home plate, 30.0 feet from the pitcher's mound. The mound lays directly northeast of the home plate. A 0.144 kg baseball leaves Tyler Crowley's hand at an initial velocity of 62.2 meters per second and reaches your bat at 43.0 meters per second. A steady westward breeze is blowing at five miles per hour. The car of your vile arch nemesis who just had the audacity to ask your girlfriend to prom lies 3,248.0 feet away at an angle of 18 degrees east of north. The car faces south. Though you could hit it harder, you would appear most human if you hit the ball with an initial velocity of 58.2 miles per hour. The time it takes for the ball to rise and fall will be 14.3 seconds. What is the minimum initial force necessary for you to apply to the ball to send it smashing through Mike Newton's windshield with a final impact of 8,100.0 Netwons?

Solve in Newtons, with accuracy to one significant digit.

**Helpful hints:**

**-**Convert all velocities to meters per second, for the sake of consistency.

-Remember that all objects in freefall have an acceleration of 9.81 meters per second squared in the negative y direction.

-The force of the Earth's rotation and the torque of the bat are irrelevant to this case. Don't worry about them.

-Remember the three fundamental constant-acceleration equations of motion! They're your best friends! They account for position as a function of time, velocity as a function of time, and velocity as a function of position.

-Don't forget Newton's second law! Force equals mass times acceleration

-It may be helpful, as an intermediate step, to solve for impulse. Remember that impulse equals average force times change in time which in turn equals change in momentum

Good luck!


	4. Mike Plays Tennis

_Author's Note: A lot of people have been urging me to update. My excuse for not doing so was always that I was "distracted by homework," which was a total lie. I was distracted by the glowing purple screen of the Twilight Lexicon, the discovery of a program called "Skype," and preparations to attend the Eclipse Prom in Phoenix. But at long last, the chapter is up._

_The term "Date Night Extravaganza" is a reference to the story written the team Skipper Pompeii._

_In other unrelated news, I am pleased to inform you that I have been accepted as a new author on the "Ramblings and Thoughts" exclusive Twilight fanfic site run by Pel. I'm very honored and excited about this! There was a huge mix up in the whole process. My entry never got opened and was lost in the flood of entries. Thankfully, though, it was found again in the end and I was accepted. I will be posting this story and Jasper in Gym on that site as soon as I learn how to use HTML._

_As always, a HUGE thank you to Wendi for her uber constructive beta work and fantastic friendship. Girl, you mean more to me than you'll ever know. The fire-breathing dust mite is for you._

_This chapter is from Mike Newton's perspective._

_Added 10/20/08:__ A lot of people have told me that I had a few technical mistakes in this chapter, which are now corrected. It was Daniel Craig, not Craig Daniels who most recently played James Bond. Mike moved to Forks when he was ten…he didn't grow up there. Finally, there is no back seat in an Aston Martin. Thanks guys for those fixes!_

**Mike Playing Tennis**

_Seattle…I thought miserably… not that excuse again._ I groaned inwardly. My ego deflated like one of those silver "Happy Birthday" balloons after it's been discovered by a cat. I looked away from those pretty brown eyes and hung my head. A bubble of awkward silence hung in the air between us. It burst as I grumbled some garbled gibberish before getting up to bat. On the first pitch, I bunted a ground ball straight down the center of the diamond. Conner—who was playing shortstop—caught it and flung it across the field. The ball made it to first base before I did. Bella, who batted after me, promptly struck out (of course), sending our team back to the outfield. My position on second base meant that I was stuck with a straight-on view of Edward Cullen's picture perfect butt as he gracefully wound up to pitch. He moved like a character from a summer action movie…too perfect to be believable. _It's almost like he's been computer-animated into my life to bug me with his snide "I'm-better-than-you" attitude and mega-watt smile, I thought._

The rest of gym flew by in a blur. I didn't even care that my team won. I'd been rejected by the girl of my dreams once again, for what was probably the last time. My senior year was ending, and in the fall I'd be off to college. I'd been accepted to USC, and even though Bella and I would be working together over the summer, I knew that when September came and I moved out of state that she would forget all about me. Not that she knew I existed anyways. I trudged towards the locker room, the swelling feeling of disappointment bloating my thoughts like too much turkey on Thanksgiving Day.

"Mike! Wait up!" I glanced over my shoulder and saw Bella sprinting after me breathlessly, pink in the cheeks, with her brown ponytail streaming behind her. I turned to face her, my pulse racing in irrational hope. She came up to me and put her hand on my arm. A shiver ran up my spine at her touch. "I'm sorry about prom," she said, standing first on one foot, then on the other, fidgeting. "I think you're a great guy….and a good friend. I just…can't go. I hope you understand." She flashed a tentative smile. I nodded once, dubiously. She quickly squeezed my arm, smiled again, and then she was gone. The simple action raised my spirits a little, but I knew I was getting my hopes up for nothing. The sinking feeling in my heart reminded me of how I felt the time I waited two hours in line for the "Batman" ride at Six Flags, only to have it break down halfway up the first hill.

I pushed my way into the locker room and stripped out of my shorts and t-shirt. The steaming showers were already ringing with the types of rude jokes that only came to life in Forks when girls weren't around to act indignant. With one hand I wiped the fog off a mirror and gave my appearance a quick once-over.

I looked pretty good. I'd shaped up over the course of the last year. Tyler, Austin and I had made a point of staying after school two days a week to lift weights in the rinky-dink room of old dumbbells located at the back of the gym. I looked myself in the eye and flexed. My pecs and deltoids had gotten bigger. My arms were starting to get harder, though my attempt at a six-pack was a complete loss…there was a spare tire around my middle that I just couldn't lose, no matter how many five a.m. jogs I went on with the boys. I turned around and headed for the showers, where Conner was launching into an exasperated tale of the very bad evening he'd had the night before. Jessica Stanley (whom he'd been casually dating for about a month) had invited him to her house for dinner, where he was forced to endure three hours of Jessica and her mom interrupting each other with uninteresting pieces of town gossip. He hadn't gotten a word in edgewise all evening long. I felt sorry for him—I'd been there before. He was doing a pretty good Jessica impression, bobbing up and down and babbling like a three-year-old. All the boys were howling with laughter. All except Edward Cullen.

Edward was standing by himself, several feet away from the rest of us, showering quietly. As usual, he appeared oblivious to the testosterone-charged conversation that was going on around him. His eyes were closed and his face was turned towards the ceiling. The water had slicked his hair back and droplets of moisture streamed across his face, trickling onto his relaxed body like summer rain. I stared at him for a moment, painfully aware of the fact that he looked much better naked than I did. I felt a jab of raw insecurity.

There wasn't an ounce of body fat on him. Every inch of his form was defined, as though chiseled out of stone. He slowly clasped his hands together and stretched his arms overhead, rolling his broad shoulders back. The muscles of his back rippled as his spine arched, causing dimples to form over his sacrum, just below his waistline. The water made his skin gleam. He looked perfect. Of course he did. He reminded me of that old painting of Achilles that I saw on a trip to the Smithsonian with my dad when I was a kid...the one that I liked so much that I'd begged him to buy me the print. It wasn't until many years later (when I realized that it wasn't cool to be into mythological art) that I took it down, replacing it with a sports poster.

_I wonder how many girls he's gotten to go to bed with him…_I thought. _Guys like that are always players. I wonder if he and Bella ever…_I put that thought out of my mind. The last thing I needed in my head was a mental image of Mr. Universe screwing the girl I'd nursed a crush on for over a year.

As that thought passed through my mind, his pressed lips flitted into a soft smile, as though he'd just imagined something pleasant, but the smile was quickly replaced with an expression of worry and…was it guilt? The skin between his eyebrows crinkled as he finally opened his eyes, blinking away the water. He met my gaze with an unreadable expression that chilled me to my core, despite the heat from the shower. I quickly looked away. As assured of my masculinity as I was, I didn't even want to think about what kind of teasing remarks my friends would throw at me if they caught me staring at another guy.

Spanish, the last class of the day, went by uneventfully. Bella—who still appeared to be angry with her supermodel boyfriend—sat by me again, but I was still feeling too dejected to even look at her. When the bell rang, she asked if she could walk me to my car. I shrugged. She strolled by my side, chatting pleasantly about the weather and work while I said nothing, keeping my eyes fixed on the pavement. What was there to say? Did I want to tell her to stop sending me mixed messages and leave me alone? No…of course not. After several months of her not talking to me at all, it was a relief to have her back. I'd take what I could get. I wasn't really paying attention to anything she said until I heard her swear loudly.

"What the _hell?"_ she exclaimed. I jerked back to reality, surprised— Bella never swore. I looked up from the asphalt and immediately saw the source of her strong language.

A perfectly round hole stared at me from the center of my windshield. A complicated series of cracks radiated out from around the hole, looking like the web of a demented spider who had decided that the front of my SUV would be a great place to catch flies. My heart sank.

Even though I'd got it used and it was a bit of a lemon, (there was the dent in the back bumper, the brakes squealed, and the alignment pulled slightly to the left) I loved my car. I'd paid for it in cash with two years worth of summer savings. My father and I had often strapped kayaks to the top and headed off, just the two of us, for male bonding sessions in the wild. I associated the Suburban with backpacking in the foothills of Mt. Hood, road trips along the coastline, and deep conversations with Dad over sparkling campfires.

I hadn't been able to afford anything but minimum insurance on it. I had no idea if this act of vandalism would be covered. What's worse, the nearest affordable mechanic was in Port Angeles. It always took a few days to get an appointment with him, and I had no idea if he repaired windshields. I wondered who would do this to me. I'd always thought that I was relatively popular and got along well with everyone. Who hated me enough to do something like this? I pulled out my cell phone, to call my dad. Bella, however, stayed my hand.

"Hold up a minute," she said. "I want to check something out." She opened the passenger side door and hopped inside.

"Careful Bella," I said in a warning tone. "There's a lot of broken gla…" But my words came too late. I heard a hushed "ouch" from inside the cab before she emerged from the vehicle, triumphantly holding a baseball in her right hand. She'd apparently sliced her hand open on one of the shards though, for the ball was smeared with red.

"Are you okay?" I asked, worried that she might faint. She ignored the question. Her jaw was set, and her eyes were flashing with anger.

"Edward's home run," she said slowly through gritted teeth. "What a coincidence!" She let out a humorless laugh. "What are the odds that the baseball he hit in gym just happened to find its way to your windshield? Weird!"

"That is pretty weird," I agreed. But something in the tone of her disbelief troubled me. It felt like she was hiding something…something that had been staring at me in my face all along…but I had no idea what it could be. For that matter, I couldn't figure out why she was so angry. It wasn't like Edward could have done this on purpose…that was simply impossible. As much as I disliked him, there was no point in getting mad over an accident.

"Mike…" a worried velvety voice said from behind me. I whirled around. Edward had appeared out of nowhere, in that uncanny way he always did. Bella glared at him, her eyes narrowed to cat-like slits.

"I can't think of a bad enough word for you right now!" she yelled.

"Bella…" he whispered hoarsely. It was at that moment that I realized that he was not his usual composed self. His face was even whiter than usual, the shadows under his eyes standing out darkly. Bella seemed too furious to take note of this.

"Edward," said Bella angrily, "you aught to be royally ashamed of yourself. How_ could _you?"

"I'm so sorry," he said. "I can't believe I let this happen." His voice sounded strangled. I looked at him in confusion.

"Nothing to get mad about," I muttered. "Just an accident with a baseball…"

"No, no. You have every right to be upset," Edward said. A sudden breeze swirled the air around us. Edward suddenly seemed to tense up. Before I could say anything else, Bella positively freaked out.

"Oh no…" she whispered, as if something terrible had just come to her attention. Edward was silent, and was standing very, very still. I looked from him to Bella.

"Uh…what's going on?" I asked. They ignored me completely.

"Edward…get away from me," Bella commanded slowly in a shaky voice. Her eyes were the size of dinner plates.

"No," he insisted, in the same choked voice. "I need to sort some things out with Newton."

"Don't get any closer! Please…just turn around and walk away," she said urgently, her voice breaking. "Don't make things harder than they have to be." I looked from her to him, unable to comprehend what was taking place between them.

"I can handle this," he whispered. His face looked positively awful, though I couldn't say precisely why.

"I don't want you to have to," she pleaded. Her eyes darted around nervously. "Don't do this."

"Trust me, I'm fine," he said firmly, but his eyes had gone wild and for the first time since I'd met him, his voice was empty of confidence. A cloud of uncertainty hung about him like a swarm of buzzing mosquitoes. Bella shook her head back and forth, glancing uneasily from Edward to me. She then did the very last thing I would ever have expected her to…she dropped the baseball and hurried away. I watched her haphazardly jump into her truck and peel out of the parking lot, her tires squealing in protest. I stared after her, astonished by this bizarre behavior.

Edward, however, showed no interest in Bella's abrupt departure. Instead, he picked up the baseball and eyed it in fascination, as though it was made of gold. He then did a very curious thing. He raised the ball to his nose and inhaled deeply...reverently. His trembling lips parted and his breathing became ragged.

"What are you doing?" I blurted out. He glanced up with a severe look, as though I'd disturbed a church service.

"Excuse me for a moment," he said. His voice was no longer strangled, but harsh. It frightened me. I had an unexplainable urge to run. "I'm going to call my father and find out what we can do about your windshield. You stay here." Before I could reply, he'd dashed off across the parking lot to his Volvo.

The phone call took a long time. I paced back and forth in front of the smashed-up SUV which, by now, was drawing a small crowd of curious, murmuring onlookers. Alice Cullen, whose face was utterly emotionless, stood nearby with her arms crossed.

"What on earth?" a freshman named Kristin White asked, scratching her head.

"Looks like someone has it out for Mike," replied her friend, a redhead with braces whose name I didn't know.

"Cullen's home run from gym class sent a baseball smashing through my windshield," I explained for all to hear. There were gasps and giggles from the girls, and sounds of admiration and awe coming from the guys.

"That's a_ really_ far hit," a sophomore named Ronnie Fisher said in an incredulous voice. "Wow! I knew he was in shape…but that's some arm!"

The buzz of conversation continued and I could hear Jessica questioning everyone around her, probably in an attempt to formulate a juicy story that she could repeat to at least eighty people before the day was done. I felt sorry for her phone. I was shell-shocked, but my windshield was the least of my worries. Bella's reaction to Edward's approach didn't settle well with me. I wondered silently what they'd been fighting about this morning. Why on earth would she run away like that? Why would she tell her boyfriend to get away? Was she unhappy with their relationship? Did she want out?

After what seemed like forever, Edward finally returned from his car. I noticed that the fear that had filled his face was gone. He looked relieved, calm, and self-assured once more. The small crowd around me was looking at him with keen interest, except for Alice, who was glaring at him.

"I called a tow truck," he said in a lazy tone. "It will take your Suburban to my garage. Rosalie is home from Dartmouth on college break, and she's excellent with cars. She's agreed to replace your windshield. My father will pay for everything. Your SUV will be like new in twenty-four hours. I'll drop it off for you tomorrow afternoon at Olympic Outfitters." He flashed me a gleaming smile. I didn't smile back.

"How am I supposed to get around tonight?" I asked sulkily. He tossed me a set of keys.

"Take my Volvo," he drawled.

"What?" I exclaimed, looking at the remote-entry key-chain, dumbstruck.

"I wouldn't dream of you being inconvenienced by my actions. What happened was my fault. I want to take responsibility. I'll make sure your car gets repaired by tomorrow. In the meantime, the Volvo is yours." He looked sincere. I had no idea what to make of the offer.

"How are you getting home?" I asked suspiciously.

"Rosalie's on her way," he said. "Have fun with the car. You'd better get going. I don't want you to be late for work."

"You're seriously going to let me drive it?" I said.

"Dead serious."

"Um…wow. I mean…thank you." Edward flashed me one of those annoying coy smiles. He looked like a shark. I took the Suburban's key off of its chain and handed it to him before leaving. The small crowd of people parted, and I made my way to the shiny silver car.

I stood by the passenger door and ran my hand over its' body, slightly awed. This couldn't be real. I'd drooled over the sports car since freshman year, back when Jasper used to drive it…before Edward got his license. It was the most coveted vehicle in Forks High School. Its polished custom rims sparkled at me and its' paint job gleamed. I drew a sharp breath, pushed the "unlock" button, and got in. I sat for a moment, allowing myself to feel the glorious texture of the leather seats and the spacious leg room. The interior was filled with the scent of his cologne. I'd always wondered where he bought it…it smelled ridiculously good. If his designer clothes were any indication of his taste in things, a small bottle of the stuff probably cost a fortune. Damn him.

As I turned the key and the car sprang to life, I suddenly forgot my inferiority complex. The engine purred, and the stereo blared to life, filling the car with the sounds of some progressive rock that I didn't recognize. I could, however, appreciate the quality of the sound. The Volvo had a surround sound system superior to any I'd ever heard…it was like being in an IMAX theater. The subwoofers rumbled with the sound of the bass, the music playing with crystal clarity. I switched the stereo from "CD" to "radio." I was pleased (though not really surprised) to find that the radio was XM. I turned it to a Top 40's station before shifting it into drive to pull it out of the parking spot. It maneuvered at the slightest touch of the hand, moving over the cracked asphalt as smoothly as if it were gliding on ice. A sense of thrill hit me. I really, truly, honestly, was driving the Volvo.

_Let's test this baby out_…I thought to myself. Instead of driving straight to work, I headed out of town and got onto highway 101 and began to accelerate. The car smoothly sped past sixty miles per hour…past seventy. As it reached eighty-eight miles per hour, I gasped, marveling at how naturally the zippy little car hugged the curves of the road. I imagined myself as Tom Cruise in some Mission Impossible movie, engaged in a frantic car chase, hurrying some hostage away from evil pursuers. I suddenly felt powerful…manly even. A thudding song came on, and the vibrations of the beat rattled every bone in my body, sending adrenaline coursing through me. I rolled down the windows and opened the sunroof, allowing the breeze to invigorate me further as I burst out rapping with the radio.

"_This is why I'm Hot_

_This is why, this is why_

_This is why I'm Hot_

_This is why I'm Hot! This is why I'm Hot! Whoo_

_I'm hot cause I'm Fly_

_You ain't cause you're not_

_This is why, this is why_

_This is why I'm hot. This is why I'm hot"_

I saw a scenic turn-out up ahead of me on the mountain road, and giddily pulled over. I got out of the booming car and ran to the edge of the spectacular cliff that overlooked the valley below me. Off in the distance, a mighty river was rushing, and I could see the whitewater rapids beckoning to me, daring me to tame them. I stood on the edge, where the railings formed a corner, and stretched my arms out on either side of me. I took a deep breath of the glorious mountain air and yelled out:

"I'M THE KING OF THE WORLD!!"

And king of the world I was. The car woke up something deep in me…a buried sense of adventure…of masculinity. I felt like the hero in some epic story. A long forgotten voice, the voice of my heart, was whispering to me once again.

_Mike…you are worthy of the task ahead of you. You have been chosen. You have what it takes. _I grinned to myself, my imagination running wild with dreams of glory.

When I returned to the car, however, I was forced back to reality—my cell phone's red "missed call" light was blinking angrily. I flipped it open and saw that I had five missed calls. With a sigh, I called my voicemail.

Every message was from my mom, who was at the sporting goods store, wondering where I was. I realized that it was now 4:30. My shift started at 4:00. I'd gotten so carried away, cruising in the Volvo, that I'd lost track of time. I suddenly felt really stupid. Just as I was about to call her back, the phone rang.

"Hi Mom," I said in a dejected voice.

"Honey? Are you okay?" my mother's half-angry, half-relieved voice blurted out.

"Yeah…sorry I didn't call earlier," I said.

"Where are you?" she demanded. "You were supposed to be at work half an hour ago! I called your phone five times."

"There was an accident," I said. "A baseball from gym class went through the windshield of the Suburban."

"Oh honey!" she cried. "Are you stranded at school? Do you need me to come get you?"

"No," I said, awkwardly. "Edward Cullen lent me his car. Apparently, his sister Rosalie knows how to repair windshields. She's home on break from college.

"How much will we owe them?" she asked worriedly. I knew what her concern was…the scare with the missing hikers and strange animal sightings had driven away the bulk of our spring customers. Sales were down, and our family's finances were getting tight.

"I think they're going to fix it for free, actually," I admitted. My mother gasped, and immediately started singing the praises of the wonderful Cullen family. Cullens this, Cullens that. Rosalie is amazing, Carlisle is generous…blah blah blah. I held the phone away from my ear as I drove back to Forks.

Work went by at the speed of a sleeping snail. Customers were scarce and the store seemed empty without Bella working at my side. My mom, who was working behind the counter with me, kept blathering on about how nice it was of Edward to offer his sister's services, and her constant ramblings made it impossible to think clearly. I desperately wanted to think clearly. I had a lot on my mind.

On one hand, it didn't look like Bella and Edward were together any more. She'd told him to get away…to not make things harder than they needed to be…to turn around and walk away. I was no expert on girls, but those kinds of comments sounded like break-up lines to me. I was puzzled. If she wasn't with him, why would she refuse me? I couldn't figure it out. Was I really that repulsive to her? Did she really dislike me that much? Despite all the friendly signals she'd sent me? Finally, seven-thirty came. My shift ended and I drove home in a daze.

I parked the car in my driveway and leaned my head against the headrest. I flicked on the dome light, curiously wondering what kind of music a guy who interested Bella listened to. I pulled a few CDs out of the black holder that was strapped to his blinder. The eclectic selection surprised me. Muse. Gershwin. Cold-Play. Scarlatti. The soundtrack to "The Phantom of the Opera." My arch-nemesis had taste. I sniffed. The smell of the cologne was overwhelming…like he'd spilled it somewhere in the car. I reached under the seat, searching for the source. My hand clamped on a small leather object, which I pulled out. It appeared to be a leather bound journal. I quickly untied the strap that held the cover closed and flipped it open…curious to read his thoughts. My heart sank when I saw what the book actually was….an old copy of Shakespeare's Sonnets. I put the book back. On an impulse, I opened the glove compartment. The smell intensified. I was surprised to see the white baseball sitting in there, nested in a mess of insurance papers and registration forms. It smelled good. _What, did Cullen spray the ball with his cologne, too? Jerk…_ I thought. Compulsively, I grabbed it before exiting the car.

I didn't head into the house. Instead, I dropped my backpack on my front porch and ran into the woods. I didn't stop running until I got to the place that was as familiar to me as my own bed: the tree house of the NVB.

When I'd first arrived in Forks from California at the age of ten, I became fast friends with Tyler, Connor, and Eric. With the help of my dad, we built the ultimate tree house out in the woods, complete with a shingled roof, a rope ladder, and a locking trap door. It was the envy of all of our classmates. We spent our summers making up quests to go on and excluding our younger sisters. We called ourselves the "Noble Valiant Boys" (in honor of the phase we were going through in which everything was about knights in shining armor and dueling with plastic swords). By high school, we were too old for those games and the club was abandoned. But the four of us were all still very close, and the tree-house was still a comforting sanctuary for us, filled with cherished childhood objects—tattered treasure maps, pirate action figures, toy guns, and plastic cowboy hats—sentimental reminders of idle summers before jobs.

I climbed the swinging rope ladder, hauled myself through the trap door, and slumped against the wall of the tree house. I absently began bouncing the baseball, staring at the darkening sky. I reached into my secret stash of IBC root beer, untwisted the top from a glass bottle, and took a sip. It was too warm. I took another drink anyways.

Those careless days felt so far away. As I'd gotten older and real life had hit me, all of my childhood dreams of grand journeys and epic adventures seemed to fade. As I'd discarded my toy swords and picked up the payroll books for my parent's store, reality hit. I was graduating high school and moving out. I was a grown-up with responsibilities. What if there was no "great romance" in store for me? What if I became one of those balding fat men, working in a cubicle to pay for a mortgage, trapped in the boredom of some suburban community? What if I never had what it took to win a mysterious and captivating girl like Bella? What if I had to settle and end up with a "Jessica?"

I banged my head on the plywood wall until it hurt. To my surprise, the banging was answered with a knock from below. I peeked through the hole in the trap door to see a tuft of Tyler Crowley's brown hair taking up the whole view.

"Who's up there?" Tyler asked.

"Me," I said, in a grumpy voice. "Go away. The fort's occupied."

"Awww…come on Mike! Lemme up!" he whined.

"Not until you say the secret password," I said in a sing-song voice. Tyler sighed.

"_Fire-swamp_," he grunted.

"The _whole_ password," I said.

"The three terrors of the fire swamp are flame-spurts, lightning-sand, and rodents of unusual size," Tyler quoted in a resigned voice. "Can I come up now?" I unlatched the trapdoor and my best friend hoisted himself through the hole, landing on the floorboards with a thud.

"What are you doing here?" he asked in an agitated voice, reaching for an IBC.

"I'm having a bad day," I said. "I need to be alone."

"I'm having a worse day," he said. "I need to be alone more."

"Tell you what," I said. "We'll compare days. Whoever has had the worst day gets to stay. The other has to go home. Deal?"

"Deal." Tyler slumped against the tree house wall opposite of me, opening his root beer.

"You go first," I said, taking another sip, tossing the baseball to him. He caught it in his right hand and dribbled it against the floor twice.

"My car broke down again," he said forlornly. "I have to shell out 200.00 for new brakes this time." He bounced the ball and caught it once. "I miss my van. That barge may have been huge and impractical, but it never broke down." He threw the baseball lightly against the floorboards. It bounced and I caught it.

"Edward Cullen hit _this_," I said, holding up the baseball, "through my windshield. So we're even in the car department." I threw the ball back to him. _Bounce._ He frowned.

"My team lost in gym," he said quickly. _Bounce._ I rolled my eyes.

"My team won, but it was because of Edward's home run. That's worse than losing." _Bounce._

"I got a C on that English paper," he said in a hopeful voice. _Bounce._

"I've gotten a C on every English paper this year," I retorted. I turned the ball over in my hands, examining its clean white surface angrily before, for no particular reason, hurling it into the woods as hard as I could. It rustled the leaves of some forest shrub as it landed. "Okay…here's one to top anything you could possibly throw at me," I said. "I asked Bella Swan to prom today and she told me that she couldn't go because she was _going to Seattle!_ Can you believe it?" I took a huge gulp of lukewarm root beer.

"That's nothing," Tyler said. "I asked Alice Cullen to prom today and she told me she'd rather go with an incontinent, rabid, one-eyed possum named Larry." At that comment, I couldn't contain myself. I burst out laughing, involuntarily spraying poor Tyler with my mouthful of soda. He grimaced as he glanced down at his brown-spotted shirt. "Great. I'm soaked. Do you have a squeegee?" I shook my head at him, still laughing. He grabbed my jacket and mopped himself off with it, chuckling, despite himself. "I guess that after my assumptions about Bella being my date last year, Alice wanted to make sure that her rejection was clear-cut." I howled with laughter. He winced.

"Why_ did_ you ask Alice Cullen to prom?" I asked suddenly. Tyler shrugged.

"I figured that after eight months of her being in Los Angeles and Jasper being at Dartmouth that they might have broken up…I thought that maybe I had a chance." He gave the old floorboards a dark look. "Apparently…I thought wrong."

"Don't feel bad," I said. "I figured that after eight months of lover-boy being in Los Angeles that Bella would eventually give me a chance. Apparently I thought wrong too." I took another swig of root beer. In unison, we let out sorrowful sighs. Tyler held his IBC bottle aloft.

"Here's to a couple of confused teenagers," he said. I raised my bottle up next to his.

"Here's to a couple of confused _grown-ups_," I corrected, unhappily. "We're eighteen now, remember?"

"Adulthood's not all it was cracked up to be," he said.

"No one ever said it would be, bud." We clinked our bottles together and each took a swig, knowing full well that no matter how confusing girls could be, at least we'd always have each other. Halfway through my swallow, however, our solemn toast to the fantasies of our childhoods was interrupted by the pounding on of a fist on the trapdoor below me.

"Who is it?" I yelled.

"It's Eric!" a cracking voice called. "Lemme up!"

"Say the secret password!" Tyler said tauntingly. Eric mumbled through the terrors of the Fire Swamp, and before I knew what was happening, the greasy-haired chess nerd had swung himself up through the door and was sitting on floor next to us.

"What the heck are you guys doing here?" he asked. "I didn't know that either of you ever came here anymore!"

"I'm having a bad day," I said, scowling.

"We're both having bad days," Tyler explained. "The girls we asked to prom rejected us."

"Bella said she was going to Seattle," I said.

"You don't even want to hear what Alice said," Tyler said. Eric grabbed a root beer, popped the top, and sipped.

"Don't feel too bad," he said. "I don't have a date yet either. I was going to ask Jessica, but she's already going with Conner." We all looked at each other glumly.

"Remember back when we were kids, and it was easy to feel like a hero?" Tyler said wistfully, his eyes turned towards the sky. "Life was always about some great romance. We always played games where we would rescue some princess from a dragon or evil villain. The whole point of having a woman around was so that someone could share in our adventures. Now…it just doesn't feel like there's an adventure to share."

"I feel less and less like a hero every day," Eric said. "I work part time in an office, doing data entry. What kind of a quest is that?" He ran his fingers around the rim of the bottle. "The battle I fought today was against crappy technology. Some kind of a fire-breathing dust mite caused a power surge that fried my computer's motherboard. I have to borrow a grand from my college fund to get a new one. Big adventures. Woot."

"Cullen said something this morning that really bugged me," I said. "He told me that Bella wasn't attracted to me because I was too_ safe_. He said that I was too normal and predictable. Apparently she thinks I'm boring. No grand adventures with this retail clerk." I scowled at my root beer. Suddenly, Eric stood up, eyes gleaming.

"Guys!" he said, excitedly. "That's it! Don't you get it?" Tyler and I exchanged blank looks. Eric went on. "We're not coming on strong enough!" I snorted in derision. Tyler rolled his eyes. "Wait! Let me finish!" Eric pleaded, as he paced back and forth. The old two-by-fours creaked under his feet. "Think of all of the heroes in the movies we love. William Wallace. Han Solo. Aragorn. James Bond. Do any of them have a problem getting women?"

"Of course not," I scoffed. "They're fictional characters."

"It's because they're_ real_ men!" Eric continued. "If a beautiful woman told William Wallace that she couldn't go to prom with him because she was going to Seattle, would he put up with it? Of course not! Guys like William Wallace don't lamely take "no" for an answer! They don't give up! They fight for the hearts of the women they want. They pursue. They woo. They rescue."

At any other point in time, Eric's words would have come across as childish nonsense. But something about the thrill of the Volvo had awakened the dreams in my heart. As I thought over all of my half-ass attempts to snag the Swan girl, I realized just how pathetic they were. Because I'd been unwilling to show a little spine when she'd politely turned me down last year, I'd ended up dating Jessica…even though I really didn't want to. Pathetic. When Edward left, she wallowed in despair for four months, plagued with heartbrokenness and depression. Did I lift her out of the pit? No. I'd politely reminded her every so often that I was still there…still interested…but I hadn't fought for her. Pathetic. With a sickening sense of realization, I realized that I'd never become the hero in the story of her life…instead, I was the guy who threw up in the movie theater while another guy honed in on her.

I made up my mind then and there that I would be passive no more. It was time for Mike Newton, the courageous knight, to show his quality. Edward Cullen was about to meet his match. He'd stolen my girl, broken my car, and to make matters worse, he had to have the audacity to add injury to insult by having perfect abs. I'd had enough. I was not going to live in his shadow any longer. I leapt to my feet.

"You're right Yorkie!" I exclaimed.

"He is?" Tyler said, confused.

"He is!" I cried. "Are we Noble Valiant Boys or not? Are we going to take no for an answer, or are we going to get dates to prom?" Unfortunately, my question was worded so oddly that Eric answered "NO!" while Tyler said "Dates!" I backpedaled.

"Getting rejected by beautiful women is one thing. But to earn their respect…we must have courage. We don't back down, tails tucked between our legs. We get up again, and ask again…this time, though…we woo them with our courage!"

"COURAGE!" Eric and Tyler yelled in unison.

"Brothers…tomorrow is a new dawn! A new day!" I cried, raising my bottle to Tyler. "Tomorrow…Tyler Crowley will tell Alice Cullen that he is most certainly not going to take no for an answer…that no rabid one-eyed possum is going to take his rightful place by her side…that he is worthy of her!" Eric laughed at this, but Tyler ignored him, leapt to his feet and raised his bottle to his nerdy friend.

"Tomorrow…Eric Yorkie will not only prove his manliness by defeating the great fire-breathing dust-mite, but he will have a date for senior prom before the last bell rings!" Finally Eric stood, raising his bottle to me.

"And finally…tomorrow…our fearless leader, the mysterious Mike Newton, will at long last find a dashing way to coax the Swan girl out of her Seattle trip and convince her that a magical night with Mike is the best possible way to bring the senior year to a close. It will be a glorious day for the NVB!" We clinked the glass bottles and drank. For the rest of the night, we drank our root beer, psyched ourselves up, and clung to dreams of some kind of a Great Romance, in which we were more than ordinary.

The next morning, I arrived to school forty-five minutes before class was supposed to start. The previous year, when it was warmer out, Bella usually got to school early to do homework on the picnic table in front of the administration building. I parked the Volvo and looked around. The lot was empty, with the exception of a black car that was parked towards the back of the lot. I gave it little notice.

Fifteen minutes went by…then twenty. No red truck. A few cars began to trickle into the lot…teachers mostly…who took the front spaces. I was getting impatient. The smell of Edward's cologne was driving me crazy and I felt unbelievably restless, so I got out of the Volvo and wandered aimlessly around the lot. It was then that I realized what black car was parked in the back of the lot.

It was an Aston Martin DBS…similar in make and model to the car Daniel Craig drove in _Casino Royal_. My jaw dropped. What on earth was the newest and most innovative James Bond car doing in the parking lot of Forks High School? I walked up to it, awestruck. It was beautiful…a masterpiece of engineering and design. There was not a scratch or dent anywhere on its body. Its rims shone like burnished steel. I ran my hand over it, wondering who could possibly own such a thing. I leaned in to peer through the tinted windows, wondering if the driver had left any clue to his identity inside.

Without warning, the window that I'd been looking through rolled down. Edward was sitting in the passenger seat of the car, with Bella draped over his lap. His white T-shirt was wrinkled.

"Newton," he said in an annoyed voice. "There is but half an hour left until we have to go to English, and I was planning on making the most of it. That is difficult to do with your nose pressed to the glass." Bella laughed as though he'd just said the funniest thing in the entire world. Her face was beet red.

"Hi Mike," she said, giggling in embarrassment. I was mortified.

"Well…you two have obviously made up," I muttered. Bella grinned.

"Yes…I'd say so," she said. Her eyes were glowing. Edward put his arm around her neck. They looked at each other, and it was obvious that the sparks that were flying between them weren't sparks of anger.

"I told you it was just a minor setback," he said, kissing her hand. "Nothing a little date night extravaganza couldn't fix."

"Mmmmmm…." Bella murmured, as though remembering something wonderful. Edward tangled his fingers in hers, marking his territory.

"Where on earth did you get this car?" I asked, trying to focus on something other than the chemistry between them. Edward rolled his eyes.

"I lent you my usual one, and I obviously still had to make it to school, didn't I? I really had no choice but to drive my spare." He said this as if he was explaining why he brought a ham and cheese sandwich to lunch instead of a nice peanut butter and jelly. I was flabbergasted. Who the heck kept James Bond cars lying around as "spares"?

"Excuse us," Bella said, her dancing eyes looking at me apologetically. The window zipped back up, sealing their laughter behind it.

My heart shattered like an icicle dropping from the edge of a rooftop as I walked away. My hands shook. I felt completely helpless. I suddenly felt like a little boy holding a plastic sword who has come into contact with a real fencer. I'd been outgunned. As I crossed the parking lot, I saw a red BMW pulling away from a very dejected looking greasy-haired boy.

"In your dreams Yorkie!" Rosalie Hale called as she drove away, her beautiful blonde hair blowing in the wind. Her bell-like laugh pealed through the parking lot. Alice (whom Rosalie had apparently dropped off) was purposefully trying to make it into the building before Tyler could catch up with her.

For the rest of the day, I watched Bella and Edward prancing giddily through the halls, happier than any two people had any right to be. My blood boiled every time I watched him draw her close to kiss her hair. She was completely under his spell.

In gym, Coach Clapp paired us off to play tennis. By random chance, David Greenman and I were paired against Edward Cullen and Erica Howard. I was determined to win this match. I had more reasons than ever before to want victory over Cullen. He was now not just my competition—but my arch nemesis: my Lex Luthor…my Magneto…my Agent Smith. To top off my complete enmity with him was the fact that his white sleeveless jersey conspicuously showed off his sculpted biceps, causing him to look way too much like a Wimbledon champion in a white Adidas sweatband than anyone had the right to.

Edward served first, elegantly starting the rally. The ball bounced once in my quadrant and I easily hit it over the net to Erica's side of the center line. After one bounce, she hit it to David, who promptly hit it way to hard, sending it sailing out of bounds. It bounced off the high fences behind the other team and Edward reflexively reached up, easily catching it in one hand.

"Fifteen-love," he called loudly, before serving the ball with a forceful overhand. It looked like it was going to go out of bounds, so I stepped away from it. Unfortunately, my eye had misjudged the shot. It hit the very corner of the doubles-sidelines, and then careened out of the court.

"IN!" shouted Coach Clapp. With extreme annoyance, I retrieved the ball and threw it back to Edward.

"Thirty-love," he announced. I couldn't stand being shown up. I usually loved tennis. I'd played with my family in the public courts in the local parks since I was young. I'd been to tennis camp twice. I crouched, awaiting Edward's overhand service to come my way, this time prepared for his edge shots. When the ball came my way, I lobbed it to Erica's quadrant. She promptly met my shot with a beautiful backhand, which David volleyed back to Edward. Edward wound back and delivered an overhand smash. The ball bounced into my section, ricocheted off the ground and sailed over my head. It landed way out of bounds and continued to bounce away through the court next to us. I ran to retrieve it yet again.

As I picked the fuzzy yellow ball up, though, I noticed something out of the corner of my eye. Bella and Alice, who were on the same team, two courts down from mine, had their heads bowed close together, their match apparently in time out. They were whispering among themselves, their expressions concerned, and my gut feeling told me that they were not discussing strategy. I would have given anything to know what they were talking about.

I wasn't the only one who had noticed that conversation. Edward was staring intently at his sister and his girlfriend, his head cocked to one side, as though processing some vital information. I flung the ball over the net to him. He was too distracted to see it coming. It sailed high into the air and came down fast, hitting him…to my surprise…right smack dab in the center of the most sensitive area of a male's anatomy.

Pleased by the fortunate accident, I waited for him to double over in pain. I knew he wasn't wearing a jockstrap. I'd watched him change—he only had boxer-briefs on under those shorts. But he didn't even flinch. He just continued to watch Bella and Alice. One second ticked by, then two. Still no reaction. My brow furrowed, perplexed. At that moment, Alice made eye contact with her brother.

Immediately, he bent at his waist and yelped; his face contorted with pain. He hopped from one foot to the other, wincing. I grinned. Delayed reaction.

"You okay there Cullen?" I called.

"I'll be fine. Give me a second."

"I'm so sorry about that! It wasn't on purpose!" I called. He just groaned in response. For the first time that day, I felt happy. I'd made Edward Cullen hurt. I began whistling to myself. A small victory for a Noble Valiant Boy.


	5. Jessica does ballroom dancing

_Author's Note: This chapter is from Jessica's POV. Thank you SO much UnicornGoddess and MarcyJ for beta reading this for me. And of course...I don't own Twilight. If I did, I wouldn't be publishing this on a fanfiction website now, would I? Alice and Jasper in the P.E. equipment closet is a reference to Marcy's "Cullenary Sex Ed" story. You should go read it! It's hilarious! _

**Jessica Does Ballroom Dancing**

No one paid any attention to Mr. Banner's monotone voice as he wearily trudged through the morning announcements. Conner's eyes were desperately wandering up and down Lauren's tan left thigh, which was audaciously exposed by her denim miniskirt. How she'd managed to find a tanning booth near Forks was beyond me—like anyone could get _that_ tan by natural means in this cloud-covered dreary hole-in-the-wall town. A jab of raw insecurity stabbed at me, and I felt my jaw involuntarily clench. Conner (whom I was now seriously dating) had never really gotten over their cataclysmic breakup the previous year. Lauren, who—on the other hand—was _thoroughly _over Conner, was now paying attention to Tyler, giving him a seductive "come hither." Tyler, in turn was staring at Alice, and whispering something to Mike. Mike didn't show the vaguest inkling that he heard Tyler's words; however, because he was too busy looking forlornly at Bella. His face had gone all wisty reminding me of the way my mother used to look at chocolate-chunk cheesecake during her last unsuccessful diet. Bella—who appeared to be at the top of the "crush" food-chain—was discreetly passing a note back and forth with Edward Cullen, who was—as usual—gazing at her with an outrageously uncalled-for mixture of love and adoration. Every time she opened the blue-lined scrap of notebook paper, her face violently turned red. I looked at my former "best friend" with a fuzzy feeling of discontent. Stupid…average looking…shy…boy magnet. Ugh.

As Mr. Banner droned on, I grew bored of assessing the love interests of my classmates and began rearranging the speed dial (AKA best friend/popularity chart) on my phone. I moved Angela down to number "eleven" while moving Lauren up to number "four." As Bella squeezed Edward's hand again, I moved "Isabella Swan" down to number "forty-two". Just as I was changing Conner's display to read "The Love of My Life," Mr. Banner brought his announcements to a close.

"Finally, the prom committee has selected the nominees for court, on the basis of who had the best-written essays." My ears perked up, and I set my cell phone down, paying attention to my teacher for the first time this morning. The essay contest had begun several months earlier. The guidelines were that the essays had to be _exactly _one hundred words long…no more, no less…on the subject of "leadership." I'd worked for days on end, tweaking and re-tweaking the perfection that was my essay.

This was thebig news that I'd been waiting for, the news that answered the biggest—and most important—questions of my life…the _ultimate _questions: Was I popular? Was I important? After twelve years of vying for the top spot in the school's pecking order, would I finally stand there, all glittery and the glorous in my of ruling of the school? Would all these little minions finally bow at my feet?

As a little girl, my dreams of royalty were a bit more fantasy-based. I loved playing dress up (the more sparkles the better) in my cousin's old ballet recital outfits. I loved putting on my mom's jewelry. I loved skirts that flared out as I twirled around. There was also my little Cinderella fantasy; that persistent dream that one day a handsome prince would single me out from among all the dreary ordinary girls to be the next supreme ruler of the people. The fantasy encompassed a need to validate myself—the need to be celebrated. As I grew older, the fantasy morphed into something more grounded in reality—the need to be superior to others. And what better way to see that dream come into fulfillment than to be elected prom queen?

I sat up straighter in my seat, bouncing slightly with excitement, as Mr. Banner picked up a stack of Xeroxed forms. My lifelong dream rested on this moment: the crown on my head, the scepter in my hand and me standing in front of the entire school as they clapped and cheered for me. I felt like my entire life had been spent preparing for and leading up to this moment.

"Five nominees for king and five nominees for queen have been selected. I am passing out their essays, which are stapled to the voting ballots. You have one week to make your decision and drop your vote off to Mrs. Cope in the office." I eagerly grabbed the sheets that were being passed out, breathlessly waiting to see my essay splayed across the top of the list. As I read over the list, my heart stopped—dead.

My name wasn't there.

The female nominees were Lauren Mallory, Stephanie Hamilton, Taylor Singer, Angela Webber, and Alice Cullen.

This couldn't be right. There must have been some sort of mistake. I reread the list. And reread the list. My seventh time through, it finally hit me: I didn't make the cut.

I felt my eyes go all teary as reality sunk in. There would be no tiara for me. My crown was going to go to someone else. All that work. All that effort. Twelve years of sucking up to the right authorities, befriending the right new kids, snubbing the right nerds, stepping on the right people—all gone to waste.

Through tear-blurred eyes, I read the essays. I tried to feel happy for Lauren. She _was _my number four friend after all. I should, in a bittersweet way, feel happy that one of us got in…shouldn't I? But I couldn't help but sulk as I read through her entry.

_I feel that I would make a great homecoming queen because I've been a leader in this school for the last four years. I've served on yearbook staff as the photographer, I've written the gossip column for the quarterly school newspaper, and I have a lot of friends. I make a difference in the community through my modeling career, and I'm a dedicated student. I will be attending college in the fall, and I hope that my talents and abilities can be developed to help me become an outstanding leader and a promoter of world peace. Vote for me please!_

I scoffed and rolled my eyes. As supportive as I wanted to be, it was hard to do when I could obviously see that Lauren's essay was no better than mine. How did hers get in the running? It wasn't fair. In fact…it was nearly the same as what I'd written. How was her essay able to edge ahead of mine? I glared at her paragraph bitterly before reading on.

I was irritated to discover that Angela's was actually quite good, though it was fundamentally against my general philosophy.

_A real leader seeks to unite, not divide _

_A real leader is accepting, not exclusive_

_A real leader is kind, not rude_

_A real leader is humble, not vain_

_A real leader corrects lovingly, not angrily_

_A real leader talks to people, not about people_

_A real leader guides people without lording over them_

_A real leader takes responsibility for their actions_

_A real leader accepts blame, rather than deflecting it_

_A real leader will encourage others, not tear them down_

_A real leader is understanding, not judgmental_

_A real leader inspires the next generation to be selfless and caring_

I felt a twinge of snarkiness creep over me as I read the poem with a roll of my eyes. Hello! What kind of an idealistic dream world did Angela live in? Her essay read more like an accusation than an inspiration to me…irking me almost as much as her typical sickly-sweet demeanor always did. How was it possible for someone to be that nice? I hated how she always cut me off every time I tried to complain about how much I disliked Bella. I hated how she always changed the subject when I wanted to rant about people who bugged me. I hated how freaking _happy_ she was with her life and with her little Chinese boyfriend. I gritted my teeth, skipping Stephanie and Taylor's entries all together. There was no point in wasting my time reading theirs—neither of them was popular enough to actually win.

At last, I came to Alice's entry. I scowled as I read it with a shudder. It was all _limericky_. Verse. Ick.

_We live in a crazy broken world_

_Where swords often clash and spears are hurled_

_Where wars are fought_

_And loyalty is bought_

_And truth is rarer than a priceless pearl_

_Will you be the one to lead this generation_

_Will you protect the future of this nation_

_We need heroes_

_To face our foes_

_And fight to save us from annihilation_

_If we are willing to unite and stand together_

_There can be no storms we are unable to weather_

_Can you be a shining light_

_Who fights for what's right_

_Because of you, will the world be better?_

I hated to admit it, but the entry was very clever—annoying…moralistic…preachy even—but still clever. I glanced jealously over at Lauren, expecting to find her reading her own essay with a look of smug satisfaction, and realized to my surprise, that she was, in fact, _not _happy…not happy at all. Her hands were shaking so hard that her acrylic French manicured nails were making rattling noises against the paper. When class got out, I hurried to meet up with her in the hall. She was walking with a distinctive stomp, like she was trying to squish the world's largest bug with each step.

"What's wrong Lauren?" I asked, thinking maybe she was mad that I didn't get in too.

"Alice can't run for prom queen!" she seethed.

"Oh," I said, realizing that she probably didn't even notice my absence on the ballot. "Erm…why can't she run? Not that I was planning on voting for her or anything…but…why?"

"She wasn't here this year," Lauren said, as we took our seats next to each other in our second hour class. She grasped her pen tightly in her hand, squeezing until her knuckles turned white. "She's been gone seven of eight months this year."

"Is there a rule that says that you had to have been present all year long in order to run?" I asked.

"If not, there _should_ be. To protect the rights of _true _prom queens…people like me." Lauren glanced up at me, her articulately made-up green eyes sulkily awaiting my response. "Don't you agree?"

"Oh yes! She _definitely _should be disqualified," I said quickly.

"It's almost like she's _cheating_. Prom is my territory. She can't just waltz in on my property, set up camp, and start roasting marshmallows like she belongs there.

"It's a travesty," I quipped, hoping to abate her wrath by my agreement.

"A sham," Lauren yelled out loud, which caused a few boys who were walking into class to trip in surprise.

"A mockery," I added, laughing at the klutzy boys, who, embarrassed, picked themselves up and sat down, red-faced, in the front row.

"A trav-shamockery!" Lauren finished. She stopped squeezing her pen and doodled a rather bad stick figure cartoon of a girl with short black hair. She then drew a picture of a bear attacking the girl. She finished off the picture with a word-bubble coming out of cartoon-Alice's mouth, saying "Help me! I'm being eaten alive by a raging bear!" I laughed uncomfortably.

"You'll help me campaign against her, won't you?" Lauren asked. "You have to help me win the crown. You _have _to!"

"Um…" I swallowed. I hated to get in the middle of things. Besides that, I was still a little bitter at the idea that it wasn't going to be me up on the stage. "I dunno Lauren…"

"Oh come on! Stand up for what's right now. Don't you think it's just wrong for Alice to come in this late in the game? I've been here since elementary school. She only came here in ninth grade. I make it a point to befriend as many students in this school as possible. Alice isolates herself socially. I've been doing all sorts of extracurricular activities this year. She didn't even _go_ to the school. I've been campaigning since January to get my name out. She's been out lollygagging on some beach in L.A. getting tan."

"Did you just use the words 'Cullen' and 'tan' used in the same sentence?" I asked innocently. Lauren scowled

"You know what I mean!" She cried. "Alice hasn't done anything to earn her right to the crown. Now she thinks that it's hers! Doesn't that just make your blood boil?" I hesitated. On one hand, this was a really stupid battle to involve myself in. On the other hand, I'd long ago sworn to hate the Cullens for all eternity and this was an excellent—and most convenient excuse—to continue doing so. I thought bitterly back to freshman year, when Edward first came to Forks. I'd practically thrown myself at him, going out of my way to make him feel welcome at our school, only to be met with keen disinterest. I'd never really gotten over that. I'd resented the pale-faced, icy-hearted family ever since.

"But here's the real question. Why would she even _care_ about being prom queen?" I asked, in a lower voice this time. The room was starting to fill up. "It's not like Alice was ever concerned about being popular before." Lauren leaned in close to me.

"I know why." I smiled smugly. "She's been jealous from the beginning; jealous of my looks, my position in the school, and my popularity. She spent three years looking down her nose on all of us. No one was good enough to be her friend. No team or club was good enough for her to join. Now, it's finally senior year, and she realizes that she's wasted it all. High school's ending, and she'll never get the chance to experience it again. She's skipped every high school activity that matters and she now realizes—too late—that she never made her mark. Her siblings graduated, her brother's always off with his perfect little klutz of a girlfriend, and she's left all alone with no friends. So what does she do? She tries to validate her existence by upsetting—no destroying—my plans and taking my rightfully earned place as prom queen! That's what! She wants to steal my crown. This is ridiculous. How low can one person stoop?" At that moment our teacher handed out a pop quiz, and our conversation was forced to close.

By the time the quiz was done and lecture began, I'd convinced myself that Alice really was just running for prom queen because she was jealous of Lauren. By the time class was done, I was convinced that Alice was a world-class criminal. By the time lunch rolled around, my disappointment in not making it to Prom Court was totally dissolved. I had a new reason for negative emotions to brew like a storm cloud in my head: I had a justification for my dislike of the Cullens. Justifiable hatred was number three on my list of favorite things…right after Frosted Mini-Wheats and flip-flop sales at Pay-Less.

Lauren and I walked to the bathroom together before lunch and stood in front of the mirrors, inspecting our reflections. I groaned. My hair was having a very bad day. It had rained that morning, and my hair was bedraggled and frizzy. I tried to smooth it back into a ponytail. Wisps of fuzz surrounded my face. I wet them down with water from the sink. I hated standing next to Lauren. She had such a nice figure compared to mine. I self-consciously analyzed my reflection. I hated the way I looked. I was too short, too curly-haired, and had far too big of a butt. I was curvy in all the wrong places and flat in all the wrong places. I stood sideways, stuck out my chest and smiled. There. Better. From the profile view, my love handles weren't as visible.

Lauren flipped her blonde head over and shook her short hair out, mussing it with her hands, trying to achieve that trendy "bed head" look. She pulled down a few strands in front, trying to get them to sweep across her eyes. She applied some extra lipstick, and then kissed the mirror to blot it.

"I look hot," she said to herself in the mirror. I had to suppress a giggle. I would never admit to her what I was really thinking: that it looked like her head had been attacked by a lawnmower. At least her makeup and clothes were still nice. She was wearing dark blue denim Capri pants with a white short-sleeved blouse that made her tan completely stand out.

"Feel better yet?" I asked. I knew Lauren well—she loved mirrors. Admiring her own lovely face was one of her favorite ways of cheering herself up.

"No!" she said angrily. She bit her lip, getting lipstick on her teeth. She looked in the mirror, pulled her lip back, and ran her tongue over her teeth, removing the stain.

"I'm so sorry this had to happen to you" I said, allowing false sympathy to pervade my tone.

"Alice Cullen makes me so freaking _mad!_" she seethed through clenched teeth. "She stole Jasper from me, she's captured Tyler's attention, and now she wants to be prom queen? What more can she take from me?" I nodded sympathetically, remembering Lauren's mad crush on Jasper in ninth grade. Back when the new boys came to town, Lauren and I fancied ourselves hooking up with Edward and Jasper. Lauren's leeway with Jasper always seemed to go a bit better than mine did with Edward. Jasper was always saying how nice she smelled. Anyways, after a month of her talking to him, sitting next to him at lunch, and _obviously_ putting the moves on him, he and Alice were unexpectedly suspended from school after getting caught making out in the PE equipment closet. Lauren had cried for days. The whole drama wouldn't have been so bad if it were some other girl. But Alice was Jasper's roommate and adopted sister. They lived together for Pete's sake! It was all positively scandalous.

"She had no right to go after Jasper," I agreed. "She saw that you were crushing on him first. She was breaking well-know dating-pool ethics: you don't go after someone that the most popular girl in school is already working on developing a relationship with!"

"Freshman year aside…Alice _can't _be voted prom queen. She has nothing that would qualify her as a prom queen. She doesn't hang out with the 'cool' crowd. She wears weird clothes. She has punk hair. She's a loner. Who's going to vote for a loner?"

"A loner? That's the least of it! Who's going to vote for a _cheater_ is the real question!" I exclaimed. "We all know that she _must_ cheat at other stuff. She always knows the answers in every class…like she's "Googling" answers from a hidden laptop or cell phone under her desk."

"She's not even that pretty," Lauren said with a scowl. "Gothic pale skin and black emo hair is _so_ out."

"As is the heroine-addict-eyeliner Calvin Kline look. What is she _thinking?"_

"Disgusting."

"Totally." I patted my friend on the arm. "Don't worry, Lauren," I said. "No one would vote for a gothic misfit like her." We tittered haughtily together. At that moment, however, a toilet flushed and I froze. I hadn't realized that someone else was listening in on our conversation. I ducked my head, feeling guilty for a moment, as I heard the stall door open with a creak. I held my breath, hoping it wasn't a teacher. Teachers at Forks had a tendency to stand up for the Cullens.

The second I saw who it was, I relaxed, and re-composed my stand-offish smile. A bright pair of flashing brown eyes met mine. Bella Swan's face was incredibly red, her straight, dark eyebrows knit so closely together that they appeared almost touching. Her lower lip was quivering. She opened her mouth as though she wanted to say something, and then closed it again.

"Excuse me," she said, pushing past me to washed her hands. I watched her carefully. Our reflections appeared in the mirror, side by side. I clenched my teeth together unconsciously, irritated at how her willowy slenderness made me look frumpy and plain next to her. As Lauren and I kept quiet, little sounds that we hadn't noticed before…such as a bird chirping outside or the hum of the plumbing…became very audible. Utter dislike was emanating from Lauren's every pore. The seconds ticked by slowly as Lauren and I waited for her to dry her hands and leave. She refused to meet our eye and in turn, we refused to talk. I tried to communicate with every fiber of my being that I didn't want her to be there. That she was in _my _bathroom and that she had no right to be. Not after going all zombie on me last fall. Just as she was about to push through the door, she turned, and looked at us calmly.

"I'm ashamed of you two," she said quietly. "You're judging Alice. You're judging her and you don't even know her. Just like you judged _me _when you didn't know me. Really…what's wrong with you guys? This is petty and beyond ridiculous. You two just need to grow up." With that, she walked out. For a second, the two of us stood in stunned silence. But we quickly recovered as we busted out laughing.

"Wow…that was…priceless!" I exclaimed.

"The Bella actually talked to us…" Lauren said, rolling her eyes.

"The albino has found her voice, and what do you know...it says awful things."

"You know," Lauren said, her voice dripping with mock hurt. "I'd almost call what she said an attack on me."

"That _was_ an attack," I agreed. "I believe that that girl is hostile." I faked a teary-eyed sniff. "And I thought she used to be my friend." I gazed at the door that she had walked through, raising one disdainful eyebrow. "Do you think I should report her for harassment?" Lauren giggled.

"So melodramatic you are Jess," she said. "Too bad she didn't punch you. Then we could really give people some new gossip to chew on. Lord knows Forks needs something to talk about."

"Awww…has the thrill of the broken windshield worn off already?" I asked. "I thought it was a good piece of news."

"Yesterday's news," Lauren replied. We made our way to the lunch table. I braced myself to sit across from the brown-haired girl and pale-faced siblings, but to my surprise, they were nowhere to be seen. I curiously looked around. Could they be outside? Eating at the picnic tables? Could Bella be sharing her newfound knowledge with Alice? Could they be plotting against us, even as we spoke? I pushed the thoughts aside, and sat down across from Ben and Angela.

"Congratulations about getting your essay chosen," I said with forced enthusiasm.

"Thanks!" Ben said happily, not realizing that my comment had been directed towards Angela. "I was so pleased that I was chosen. There were a lot of entries, and I wrote mine very last minute...at Angela's urging." He looked fondly at his girlfriend, who squeezed his hand. I realized, with a twinge of embarrassment, that I hadn't even realized that Ben had been nominated for prom King. I hadn't read any of the male contestants' essays, since they weren't competing against me.

"Actually…I meant to congratulate both of you," I said, glancing at Angela, smiling at the couple. "The talented Benangela strikes again."

"Thank you! Thank you very much!" Angela said, positively glowing. "And congratulations to you too Lauren. I bet you're thrilled about your nomination." Lauren scowled.

"I'd be more thrilled if Alice Cullen hadn't been nominated too" Lauren said darkly, stabbing her yogurt with a spoon causing gooey pink flecks to fly across the table and splat against Eric Yorkie's glasses. "She hasn't even been at this school at _all_ this year. What has _she_ done for the student body? You can't spend three years aloof avoiding all other students in the school, refuse to get involved with any extracurricular activities, go to another school for your entire senior year, and then expect to end up prom queen. Especially if you're that…_odd._" There was an awkward silence from Ben, Angela, Mike, and Tyler, who were all speechless at Lauren's rude behavior. For a moment, no one broke the silence; they all exchanged uncomfortable glances instead.

"So about that sports car!" Tyler said, in an obvious attempt to break the ice. Mike launched into a full-blown description of the texture and feel of the Volvo, his experience cruising around with it, and the incredible discovery that the Aston Martin in the parking lot was the Cullen's "spare." I grumbled to myself. Aston Martin was not even a known car name to me so it must be a cheap mockery of a car (or something like that). I knew nothing about cars. I had nothing to contribute to the craptastic car conversation. Not being able to talk made me antsy.

Fortunately, I was saved by Conner, who—lunch tray in hand—sat next to me. He flashed me a quick smile.

"Hey sweetie!" I said, planting an overly possessive kiss on his cheek. He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye and gave me a half-smile before pulling a smooshed salami sandwich out of a brown paper bag. He began munching quietly. I eagerly began to fill him in on all of the drama with the set-up of prom court, the plans I had for my dress to match his tux, ideas about where to go for dinner that night, and how I was actually relieved that I didn't get nominated for prom court, since that would mean that I could spend more time with him. Just as I began to describe my dilemma over whether I should leave my hair in its natural curls or straighten it with a flat-iron first, he laid his hand on my arm.

"Jess…" he said, in a low voice that was almost a whisper. "I can't go to prom with you." His wide shoulders slumped slightly, and he gave me a look of pure pity. I felt all of the blood drastically drain from my face.

"What?" I said, my rambling train of excitement grinding to a halt. "You can't be serious? Is there some kind of an emergency? Are you sick? Did someone in your family die?"

"No…I still want to go to prom." He glanced over at Lauren, who was unsuccessfully attempting to steer the car conversation back to the nominations again. The longing in his eyes was apparent. "I just don't want to go to prom with you."

"Wha…?" I whispered again, stuttering. I felt as though someone had dumped a bucket of ice water on my head.

"Us. It's not going to work. I'm sorry about prom. Really…I am. But I just don't see myself with you." For the second time that day, I felt shock melting into pain. This couldn't be right. So maybe I wasn't going to be queen. But, now I was going to have no date? This was the end of high school! It was supposed to be the most magical night of a girl's life, well aside from her wedding night. How in the world was I supposed to survive this? It's impossible. I felt my heart clench in my chest. Before I could respond or protest, Conner turned back to his sickening sandwich and eagerly joined in the stupid conversation about the stupid cars, clearly ending the discussion that defined our so-called relationship. I furiously picked up my tray and stormed away from the table in a rush. I dumped the wasted food in the trash and sprinted to the girl's locker room.

Gym wasn't supposed to start for another twenty minutes, and I was certain that the locker room would be empty, so I ran in there for a place to hide—a place to cry. I slammed open the door of a bathroom stall, locked it behind me, and began to sob. However, after three minutes of continuous crying, I grew bored stiff of my personal pity party, and pulled out my cell phone. I was at one bar signal. I opened the phone and called the one and only person I knew could always make me feel better. The phone rang three times.

"National Federal Bank," my mother's voice chirped. "This is Mrs. Stanley speaking. How may I help you?"

"Mom? I'm having a bad day," I whined.

"Oh honey! What's wrong?"

"Conner broke up with me. He doesn't love me. He never did. It's just like last year, when Mike broke up with me. Men are all monsters. They're using me…" my voice dissolved into the wails that I always knew would get an immediate sympathetic response out of my mother.

"There, there, honey," she said. "You'll be okay. You know how much I love you! It can't be that bad."

"They didn't pick my essay," I cried. "I didn't even get nominated. I'm so not popular. No one likes me Mom. They nominated Alice Cullen over me! And Angela! Can you believe it?" tears continued to stream out of my eyes. I blew my nose on a tissue.

"Honey…you are the most beautiful girl in the world," my mother crooned in a soothing voice. "You're my precious angel. Don't let anyone pick on you. Relax. I'm here for you. I won't let anyone hurt you."

"Conner hurt me," I said miserably. "I'm so confused. I thought everything was great between us. He enjoyed himself so much at dinner this weekend! What's up with his sudden change of heart? Why would he turn on me and betray me like this?" I vowed that as soon as I got off of the phone with my mother, I was going to demote Conner to number 41 on my speed-dial list. Not only that, I'd tell every girl in school what an absolutely awful boyfriend he made. He'd never, ever get a date again for as long as he lives. I'd show him. He is sooo not in my top eight any more.

"Sweetie…the world is full of mean people who would love to take advantage of someone as small and innocent as you. Just like Bella did last year. She was your friend just long enough until she could 'upgrade' to the Cullens, and then she forgot all about you. Don't let them do it. You need to stand up for yourself."

"I don't know how, mom!" I wailed. "I'm so hurt that I want to do something desperate and drastic!"

"Honey…if you need to come home, I'll call Mrs. Cope. I'll get you out of school…"

"No…" I sniffed. "I think I'm going to be okay. Just…can we have some mom and Jess time when I get home? I don't care what we do. Really…I don't."

"Honey, we'll sit down, drink chai tea, and chat for hours." I sniffed. I loved my mom's chai. It was like drinking delectable pumpkin pie in a cup. There was something comforting about sitting on our front porch together on a cool spring evening, enjoying the warmth, and talking until the stars came out.

"That sounds perfect Mom," I said. "You're the best." I looked forward to the coddling I'd get as I blamed all of my insecurities and shortcomings on those who had it in their minds to hurt me. Nothing like mom's comforting arm around my shoulder, assuring me that I was the center of the universe; of _her_ universe at least. I took a ragged breath, hearing girls start to fill in to the locker room.

"Class is starting really soon mom," I said. "I gotta go. I love you."

"I love you too dear," she replied. I shut my cell phone with a snap and quickly reopened it and moved Conner's name down to my number 41 spot. I stepped out of the stall, changed quickly and made my way to the gym.

I was surprised to find that Coach Clapp was nowhere to be found. In his place was a perky girl with highlighted dark blonde hair, who dressed in blue shorts and a little red t-shirt. She was inarguably pretty.

"How y'all doing today?" she cried enthusiastically. She got a rippled response of "good" from the class.

"I can't hear you!" she said.

"_Good!"_ we all cried in unison. Some of the boys were staring at her, open mouthed, like they'd never seen a female before.

"My name is Mrs. Thunderbird," the woman said, in a chipper Texas drawl. "I've taught ballet, tap dancing, ballroom dancing, and various dance aerobic classes for the last nine years. The reason Coach Clapp invited me here today is because y'all have a prom coming up. Since not all of you know how to dance, he thought that it would be a great idea if I came in to show ya'll the basics of ballroom dancing. There were gasps of excitement from the girls and guttural groans of misery from the guys. Bella shot Alice and Edward a horrified expression. They just grinned at her.

"Everyone needs to find a partner, preferably of the opposite sex, who you will be learning the dance steps with." The room suddenly went all scrambly. I tried to make my way across to Conner, out of habit. Before I'd gotten to him, however, he's asked Lauren to be his partner before she could ask Mike. I began to approach Mike, thinking that maybe it would bring back old times. He was single...I was single now. I gave him a friendly look. He quickly asked a girl named Emma to dance, before I could make my way over to him. I glanced over at Bella and Edward, who were obviously paired up. My panic began to build as I watched everyone in the class—except me—quickly find partners. Every time I approached a guy, he seemed to ask someone right before I got to him. Even Eric had a partner—some loopy girl name Erynne who was wearing a corny t-shirt with a llama on it.

"Anyone left without someone to dance with?" Miss Thunderbird called. I raised my hand. Much to my dismay, so did Alice.

"Hmmm. It would appear that there are more girls than guys here today," she said lightheartedly. "You two can dance together. It might work better. You're actually close to the same size. What are your names?" We told her.

"Well…Jessica, how 'bout you'll be the leader. You'll learn the 'guy's' part. Alice, you'll be the follower. You'll to the "girl's" part."

"Lovely," I muttered under my breath. Alice's tiny form gracefully approached me, smiling politely. I smiled back at her.

"Have you ever done this before?" Alice asked, her bright, friendly eyes looking me over.

"Not really," I admitted.

"I learned how to do the waltz, foxtrot, east and west coast swing, and salsa with Jasper back when we lived in Alaska," she said, conversationally. "It's so much fun! They guy's part is harder, since you have to make things up as you go along and communicate to your partner where you want her to go.

"Sounds challenging," I said.

"If you want, we can switch parts," she offered. "I know how to lead pretty well. It's much easier to just follow."

"Sure. Whatever." _Of course she would know how to dance._ I thought. _She's a perfect Cullen._

The first dance that we learned was the waltz. It seemed simple enough. The perky Texan demonstrated, with Tyler as her partner, how it was done. Alice took my waist and hand and led me easily through the one-two-three, one-two-three pattern. After that, she showed us a basic box step that could be done to slow music. She then showed us the basic steps for east coast swing. Alice looked a little bored as she effortlessly guided me through them. Heel-step, heel-step, rock step. Heel-step, heel-step, rock-step. The step for slower songs was rather straightforward as well. Triple-step, triple-step, rock-step. Triple-step, triple-step, rock step. She then took us through some basic turns. All through the motions, I tried hard not to make eye contact with Alice. Her tawny eyes always freaked me out. I was also highly aware of how unusually cold her hands were against mine. She kept on smiling politely at me. For some reason, the smile frightened me. I couldn't quite put my finger on what it was about those straight, flashing, beautiful teeth that made me want to run. We made it through the first several dances without any significant changes.

"All right," Miss Thunderbird said with a smile. Who's ready to go on to something harder? Several girls gleefully raised their hands. The guys, of course, didn't—except one. Edward kept his hand held up high.

"You there! Come on up," she said, pointing at Edward. He strode up to her, grinning crookedly. "What's your name?" she asked.

"Edward," he replied.

"Edward…I couldn't help but notice, but you look like you've done this sort of thing before."

"Yes," he said, running his long, pale fingers through his reddish-brown hair. "I've been well taught."

"So…would you say that you're proficient in east coast swing?" Mrs. Thunderbird fluttered her long eyelashes at Edward—like she was mesmerized. She took a hesitant step closer to him and inhaled. She must have been turned on by the scent of that cologne he always wore. He raised one eyebrow, looking at her with a completely amused expression.

"I would," he stated, with the utmost confidence.

"Would you mind doing a demonstration for the class with me?" She held out her hands to him, eyes twinkling. I rolled my eyes. Even our substitute gym teacher…our _married_ substitute gym teacher—for crying out loud—was crushing on the extravagant Edward. The gym went all buzzy as disapproving murmurs went through the gym. This was most scandalous.

"I mean no disrespect, Mrs. Thunderbird," Edward said in a smooth voice, "but Bella is my usual dance partner, and the two of us dance well together. I am willing to demonstrate…" he gestured to his girlfriend. "But only if she and I can demonstrate together," he held out his hand, grinning broadly at her. Her face was beet red and she was shaking her head and mouthing "no," to him. His eyes were twinkling with mischief.

"Edward…I don't know…"Bella began, but he ignored her.

"Do you have any Benny Goodman?" Edward asked Mrs. Thunderbird.

"Er…yes." The look on her face was that of a kid at the beach whose cookie has been snatched away by a seagull.

"Play something, then, _Mrs. _Thunderbird. My girlfriend and I will be happy to demonstrate how dancing was done in the 1940's. Please?" His gorgeous glinting eyes bored into hers. For a moment, our substitute teacher looked as if she was having difficulty breathing. Then, she nodded once, walked over to the CD player, and hit the play button.

I recognized the song…an instrumental number called "Sing Sing Sing." The rest of the class formed a large ring around the pair. The song started out with a distinctive drumbeat, during which Edward circled Bella, like a lion stalking its prey, his eyes lighted up as if on fire. I couldn't help but notice the stark contrast between the two. Plain Jane, ordinary, girl next door, paired up with America's Next Top Model: Hot Guy Edition. Him, with his overconfident, crooked smile, her with a look of self-conscious terror in her eyes.

At precisely the moment the horn section came into the song, Edward dashed to Bella, seized her by the waist, and flipped her over his arm. She landed on her feet. He pulled her into his arms and began leading her in a wild dance. Gasps went up all around me. They were incredible. They looked like they should be on "Dancing with the Stars." He twisted and turned her around, guiding her every movement with perfect precision. She kept in step with him flawlessly. As the saxophones came in, he lifted her from the floor, grabbing her legs from behind and swinging her up, first to the left side of his legs, then to the right side. When the second drum solo came in, Edward took a look into her eyes, placed his hands on her shoulders, and literally vaulted over her head. Back-to-back with the slim brunette, he linked his elbows with hers and bent forward. The momentum of the movement carried her over his head. She landed squarely on her feet. The room broke out in applause. Angela and Ben cheered. Even Mike clapped his hands, yelling "Go Bella!"

There were only two people in the room who didn't look happy. The first was Lauren. The second, to my surprise, was my pale partner.

"Show-off," she growled. I glanced at her, puzzled.

"Huh?"

"Leave it to him to break the rules…" she muttered.

"Excuse me?" I said. Alice suddenly turned to me, with her eyes wild.

"We'll show him," she said, staring at me oddly. The way that she looked at me freaked me out. Stupid gold eyes.

Edward caught Bella up in his arms again. He spun her around so that her back was to his chest and led her through the Charleston. As the second drum solo began, he made a gesture for her to duck. She lowered herself to a squat. He swept one leg over her head, then pulled her feet first through his legs and into the air, before catching her in another flawless display.

At that moment, something changed in Bella's expression. She suddenly smiled, jubilantly. A clarinet solo began, and she threw herself into the dance. She no longer looked shy or inhibited. It was like something clicked. The chemistry between the two scaled up a notch.

By the time the song ended, the whole class was clapping to the beat of the song and tapping their feet. Edward ended the act with a Bella in a dip…her legs straight, her head nearly touching the floor. The class clapped and whistled once again, and Edward planted a light kiss on Bella's forehead, bringing her up to standing. Her face held a sheen of sweat while he, of course, looked as cool as a cucumber. An impressed, yet dejected looking Mrs. Thunderbird stopped the CD player before it could go on to the next song.

"You are _wonderful!_" she said in an awed voice, speaking only to Edward, ignoring Bella entirely.

"Thank you," Edward said with a smile. "We've worked very hard to become so."

"I bet you have!"

"I had to, in order to keep up with her," he said, putting an arm around Bella's shoulders. "She's a natural."

"Have you two ever been to competitions?" Mrs. Thunderbird asked.

"I'll show him competition," Alice muttered. My heartbeat elevated slightly. She didn't mean to…no. She wouldn't…she _couldn't_…

"Mrs. Thunderbird, my brother has never danced competitively…but _I_ actually have." Alice, said, interrupting the conversation. She loped up to the dance instructor and smiled sweetly. "I've been schooled in not only ballet, but all sorts of ballroom dancing. I would be perfectly willing to demonstrate, with my partner here." She gestured to me. I felt every muscle in my little body tighten. Mrs. Thunderbird cocked her head to the side.

"Omigosh! You can lead? Wow! The dancing genes must run in your family!"

"Er…no, actually," Alice said. "We were both adopted."

"Oh. Hmph. Well…I suppose that if the class is up for another demonstration, that we actually _can _turn this into a bit of a dance off. Whaddyall say?" There was a murmur of assent from the class, particularly the guys, who were happy to be off the hook of actually participating. Mrs. Thunderbird made her way back to the CD player and pushed "play" once again. For the first time in my life, I knew that I had everyone's attention, that every eye in the room was on me and yet, there was nothing I felt more like doing than crawling into a hole and never coming out.

As the song "Jive Bunny" started, Alice led me into the main step. I'd learned it before, and even though she was a good leader, I felt myself step on her toes twice. She ignored it, turning me under her arms. Unlike Edward, she attempted no flips. Instead, she was leading me through a series of twists, turns and twirls. I kept up with her basic steps.

"Look into my eyes," she whispered. "It's easier to lead if I can communicate with you." For the first time, as she spoke into my ear, from just inches away, I realized how good she smelled. I suddenly felt a little dizzy. I fell back a step and met Alice's gaze. As she continued to twirl me and twist me in all directions, I felt myself getting dizzier and dizzier.

"I'm going to do that first move that Edward did with Bella," she whispered again to me. All you have to do is stand up straight. I'll flip you over my arm.

The rational voice inside my head screamed _"Jess! Stop this! Stop this now! What the heck are you thinking??? She's too little. She doesn't have enough strength to do that move!" _However, I found myself unable to respond to that voice. I nodded, dream-like, at the beautiful face in front of me. She exhaled in my direction a third time, and before I knew it, I was upside down, down down down…

SMACK.

My butt hit floor. For a couple of seconds I felt nothing. Then, the pain in my left ankle began.

"Arrrrrgh!" I cried, clutching it tightly. It felt like it'd been stabbed with a knife. A throbby ache spread through it.

"Omigosh! Are y'all right there missy?" Mrs. Thunderbird gasped, rushing to my side. I fought back tears. Alice was joined by Edward, who crouched down next to me, quickly removing my shoe. He poked and prodded at my ankle, trying to move it in different directions. His icy hands felt like heaven. What was it with that family and icy hands anyways? I quickly wondered in Dr. Cullen only adopted orphans with bizarro diseases.

"It looks like her ankle may be sprained," he said softly. As he bent over me to continue examining me, he and Alice exchanged a certain look. She whispered something, her lips trembling, as though she was muttering to herself. Edward glanced first at me, then at Mrs. Thunderbird.

"If you don't mind, I'd like to take Miss Stanley to the nurse's office," Edward said loudly, his voice tense. "It appears that she is unfit to participate in the rest of gym."

"Are you going to carry me?" I asked, hopefully. Maybe the day wasn't a waste after all. Who knew that by the end of the day I would be in injured _Edward's _arms.

"I'll carry you," Alice quipped quickly. "This is all my fault. It's the least I can do."

"You are not strong enough to lift her," Edward said, giving her a meaningful glance. "I know you feel bad, but you only weigh 90 pounds."

"Oh. Right," Alice said. "Sorry. Here I am, trying to be helpful and all." She wrinkled the corners of her eyes at me, shrugged her shoulders, and turned her palms up, communicating something silently with her brother.

"It's okay, really," Edward said silkily, loud enough for everyone around to here. "I'll take care of her. She looks like she's a damsel in need of a rescue from _you._"

The word "rescue" had an effect that surprised me. Mike Newton dashed to my side.

"Back off Cullen," he said. "I'm going to take her to the office."

"Huh?" I said. This was new. Mike hadn't talked to me in months…not since our awkward break-up.

"Huh?" Edward said, scratching his head.

"Let someone else take the fallen girl to the nurse's office for once, will you?" he said in an annoyed voice.

"Uh…sure," Edward said, backing off. Mike's blond head bent down, his face close to mine.

"Are you all right?" he asked, looking genuinely concerned.

"I'm…ergh…fine," I said. I looked up into those blue puppy-dog eyes, the ones I'd been in love with once. His boyish face was filled with determination.

"Take my hand. Let's get you up," he said. He pulled me up, helping me stand on my "good" leg. "Can you put weight on it?" he asked. I tried, and found that it increased my pain and made the ankle give.

"Crap," I said.

"That's okay…here," Mike said. He scooped me up into his arms, and carried me down the hall. I glanced at Lauren, who was looking with me with her jaw clenched and eyes furious. I grinned.

Despite the fact that I was in pain, despite the fact that I might need to use crutches, despite the fact that I hadn't been nominated for prom court, I felt a sense of satisfaction wash over me. This day had turned out good.

For one, I was back in Mike's arms. Perhaps he'd ask me to prom. For another, I was the center of attention, and the whole class felt sorry for me. And finally…the fact that Alice Cullen had caused my sprained ankle was excellent fodder for the rumor mill cannon. Attention from Mike, attention in general, and a good piece of gossip to spread.

I couldn't wait to call my mom—and maybe re-evaluate Mike's current standing in my speed dial directory.


	6. Alice Runs Track

_**Author's Note:**__ I apologize to all of you for the six-month hold that I had on this story. I loved writing it and appreciated everyone's messages encouraging me to update. Unfortunately, life interfered. In August, my doctoral program sent me on a clinical rotation in another city. I worked eleven-hour shifts and came home exhausted each night to a house with no wireless Internet. I spent all my weekends driving across the state to see my husband, who I missed dearly. In essence, my free time got eaten up. _

_But…I'm back now! Yay! So on with the story._

_A big thanks to MarcyJ for beta reading this. If you haven't read her Cullenary Sex-Ed story, go do so now! If you think vampires are funny in gym, just wait until you see them in sex-ed. I believe that that particular story has received more reviews per chapter than any other Twilight fic on the Who on earth gets 150 reviews per chapter??? CRAZY! _

_Keep in mind as you read this story, that it takes place at the end of New Moon, which, according to Stephenie Meyer, is in the spring of 2006. You can reference current events and Alice's visions of the future from that timeframe. _

_Speaking of Ms. Meyer, she wrote Twilight. Not me. If I'd written it, there'd be a scene in which Alice and Renee went to Big Lots to buy garden gnomes._

_On a side note, some anonymous donors really did set up a mysterious and slightly bizarre scholarship fund for all the students in Kalamazoo. It's called the Kalamazoo Promise, and everyone here in West Michigan is very grateful to those donors._

_-Roo _

_P.S. I actually can solve the Rubik's cube in less than five minutes using the Dedmore algorithms. They work. It's a great party trick._

_P.P.S. The VBC actually exists in the Meyerverse. The basement is described in the characteristics of the house on the Twilight Lexicon._

_P.P.P.S. "Pregnant Vampire Bella Joins the Army" is a bit of an inside joke. Marcy and I were once talking about all of the worst concepts we could think of for AU fiction, and when she mentioned that one, I laughed so hard I nearly peed my pants. _

**Edward In PE**

**Chapter 5: Alice Runs Track**

"It's a pity that all that dress material is going to waste," I said glumly, staring through the windshield of the Volvo at the beads of water rolling across it. The windshield wipers swiped the glass with a rubbery _thwick-thudd, thwick-thudd_. "Do you know how hard it is to find satin of that quality outside of Hong Kong?" Edward's jaw tightened.

"You _know_ what will happen if we attend," he muttered darkly, as the car hydroplaned. I swore under my breath, cursing my pre-cognition. I focused my "sight" on prom night once again, re-examining the vision that had originally caused Edward's "tennis-ball" incident. To my chagrin, nothing had changed in two days. There were still just three possible outcomes that could take place if Edward and Bella were to attend senior prom.

Future #1: If Bella wore the four-inch strappy heels I'd bought her, she'd break an ankle dancing. During an open-reduction-internal-fixation surgery in the hours following, a blood clot would form, travel directly to her brain, and cause a stroke that would leave her both mentally retarded and partially paralyzed. Not a great way to spend eternity as a vampire.

Future #2: If Bella wore the cute little ballet flats I'd bought her, one of them would slip off partway through the evening. She'd step on a rusty nail, causing a necrotic bone infection. Her left foot would require an amputation, leaving her dependant on a prosthetic limb. Also not a great way to spend eternity as a vampire.

Future #3: If Bella wore shoes with a medium heel, a chance encounter with a stranger in the shoe store would cause set off a chain of events that would ultimately result in a train derailing in China, killing over a hundred people. Worse…I would somehow end up as prom queen (as a result of the fake essay Edward entered into the contest under my name. His idea of a joke). Fine for Bella's new undead life, but not great for the struggling Chinese transport system. Or my dignity.

Once Edward realized the scope of his precarious prom possibilities, he'd given Bella an ironclad promise that they would do something special that weekend that didn't involve formal wear or decorated gyms. Bella was unreasonably relieved.

I didn't think his decision was fair to me. I only got to unveil Bella's beauty so often, and heaven knew, there were plenty of shoes she hadn't tried on…

"No more shoes, Alice," he said warily, reading my thoughts. "I've made up my mind. We're not going."

_Rats, _I thought. With the finality of his words, the three prom scenarios vanished from my mind, leaving a nice (albeit less exciting) vision of Bella in her room alone, doing homework. _How completely unlike a ball_,I thought. _What a pity. They dance so well. _Edward shook his head at me and leaned back in the seat of the car, steering with one finger. His expression was a mixture of amusement and thoughtfulness.

"Look on the bright side," he said. "At least you have the satisfaction of knowing that Mike and Jessica will have a good time at prom," he said. ". I've been meaning to thank you for your participation in my little scheme to hook them up."

"You and your interference in the affairs of mankind," I said, still annoyed that my prom plans had plummeted. "A year ago humans _bored_ you. You used to scoff at my interest in their little daily dramas and love triangles. Now look at you. A regular twenty-first century Emma Woodhouse." Edward shrugged.

"Mike needed a beauty to rescue. Jessica needed to be the heroine instead of a side character stuck in a sub-plot. I needed entertainment. Orchestrating all that was rather fascinating."

"Roughly translated—you like playing God," I accused. Edward pondered that thought for a moment.

"Perhaps I do. Which reminds me…"

"Yes?"

"You know that twenty million dollars I stuck in Starbucks stock a month ago?"

"You mean the twenty million that's somehow managed to grow to _fifty_ million in record time, thanks to me?"

"Yeah. That twenty million."

"What about it?"

"How's it going to do if we keep it in this week?"

"I'll check." I closed my eyes. Several vivid images flashed across my mind. Edward drew in a sharp breath.

"Ouch. Who could foresee that McLattes would be such an international hit?"

"Starbucks is seriously going to make people _pay_ to use their Wi-Fi next year?" I shook my head. "That's just corporate greed. Don't they realize that that will cost them their college market share?" Edward tilted his head to one side.

"I dunno. I still like the company. Sure, it's not clear whether the majority of their coffee is fair-trade, but at least they give their part-time employees health-care benefits. That's got to count for something in today's economy." I groaned.

"I'm not going to get into the universal healthcare debate with you again," I said swiftly. "Nor will I discuss the exploitation of third-world farmers. I don't need visions of the future to see that those discussions will just get us both mad."

"I can accept that," Edward said, laughing. "All right. If Carmel Macchiatos are going to fail in next year's economy, what's going up?" I concentrated. As if by magic, images of iPhones, MacBooks, and iPod Touch devices swirled through my brain.

"Good enough?" I asked. Edward nodded. I slipped a prototype half-pound, five millimeter thick, titanium notebook computer from my backpack. Emmett and Jasper had built the thing in the VBC one summer afternoon when they were really bored. (The "Vampire Bat Cave" was what we called the lovely basement in our house where we kept all our illicit stuff. It was entirely inaccessible to anyone who wasn't a vampire, since you had to uproot a tree in order to get into the secret entrance). I'd had a vision of the technical specs of a laptop from 2018, written engineering notes down, and given my brothers a week to make it. They rose to the challenge. The comp was waterproof, even when submerged at a depth of two hundred feet—not that I did much underwater browsing. It contained fifty gigabytes of RAM, a hundred terabytes of ROM, a fifty GHz Intel dual processor, and a high-def archive of every movie ever to win the Academy Award for Best Picture. It also hijacked a cool satellite signal that enabled excellent wireless Internet anywhere in the world…including the Gobi desert (I knew from experience). It had access to more secret government files than the CIA, FBI and Interpol put together. To top it all off, when charged for one hour, the battery lasted two years before it needed to be charged again. Unfortunately, it was cleverly disguised as a battered copy of _Windows '98 for Dummies._ Emmett's idea of a joke.I opened the lid.

"Password?" the computer asked audibly.

"Rotate-left, left-up, right-down, middle-left, right-down, right-down, middle-left, middle-left, right-down, top-right, top-right, right-up, middle-right, middle-right, right-down, right-down, middle-right, right-up, top-right, top-right, left-down, rotate-right," I recited. My computer buzzed to life.

"Dedmore Fish?" Edward exclaimed, staring at me in disbelief. "Your password is Dedmore Fish? What is this? 1985?" I laughed. In the early eighties, a toy known as the Rubik's Cube hit the market, driving millions of teenagers crazy as they spent tear-filled hours attempting to solve the darn thing. Jasper was practically pulling his hair out, overwhelmed with all the waves of frustration and obsession that bombarded him from every direction. When the fad reached its peak, he could take it no more. Desperate to rid the nation of its emotional crisis, he developed a series of algorithms which, when done in order, would invariably solve the cube. He published the solution under the pseudonym "Denny Dedmore" (the play on words of "dead more" being his idea of a joke. He originally had planned on calling himself Denny Dedman, but Carlisle thought it was too obvious). The final twenty-two steps of the puzzle were a complicated series of twists we called the "Dedmore Fish." The book sold millions of copies and became an international hit overnight. Since we didn't need any more money, we searched through the phone books and found a guy in Portland who actually _was_ named Denny Dedmore. We diverted all funds from the book sales to his bank account and he ended up living like a king, hailed by mathematicians everywhere as a technical genius. It was an interesting decade for our family.

"Back off," I said. "I loved the eighties."

"The _clothes _we wore…" Edward's eyes crinkled in the corners as he winced and shuddered.

"Oh, they're coming back, and you _will_ wear them. Believe me, I know. I've seen your future and it involves skinny jeans."

"Ugh," he said, thoroughly disgusted. I grinned as I pulled up an e-trade site and logged on. Within five minutes, I'd liquidated Edward's coffee stock and bought twenty million dollars worth of Apple shares.

"Whatcha wanna do with the leftover thirty million?" I asked.

"I'm not sure. We've done the Amnesty International thing four times this week."

"We could always start a bizarre college scholarship," I suggested. Edward laughed.

"From the anonymous donors at Pacific Northwest Trust? Sure. Why not?" I pulled a map of the United States from the glove compartment. I closed my eyes and pointed to a random spot. When I opened them, I found that my finger had landed on Kalamazoo, Michigan.

"How 'bout we set up a fund that pays for four years of college for any student currently enrolled in the Kalamazoo school system? Regardless of grades?" Edward chuckled.

"Kalamazoo is a funny name for a town. Make it so." My fingers were still flying across the keypad, sending emails and setting up mutual funds as Edward parked the silver car. I completed the transactions by the time we reached the front door, where Bella was waiting for us. I looked a week ahead, saw the NBC news coverage of our philanthropic deed and gave Edward a thumbs-up.

"Done," I said. Edward gave me a nonchalant high-five. Bella eyed us apprehensively.

"What have the two of you been up to?" she asked suspiciously.

"Playing God," I said lightly, shutting _Windows '98 for Dummies_ with a _snap_. "It's something your boyfriend likes to do for fun from time to time." Edward shot me a disapproving look. Bella raised her eyebrows.

"Should I ask?"

"We were just amusing ourselves in the car," Edward said quickly. "Don't worry about it, love. Let's go to class." The two of them walked down the hall together, leaving me alone in a hall of delicious mortals.

_Great. _I thought. _It's going to be one of those days. Everyone smells like food. _I left my raincoat and backpack in my locker, grabbed my books and headed to English.

I passed Mike and Jessica on the way to class. Jess was hobbling along on crutches, playing up the injury that I knew would be completely healed in a week's time. I avoided Tyler's mournful gaze as I took a seat out of reach of Lauren's hateful green eyes.

When lecture began, I opened my notebook and pretended to pay attention, allowing my note-taking to act as a cover so I could tune out the present.

I let my mind wander to Italy, sifting through the wispy strands the future until I caught a few threads of Volterra, three hours from the present. I could see that Aro was fully conscious that something was rotten in the state of Washington…particularly in Seattle…but that he'd still made no move to send the guard.

_Good. We're still safe, at least for a while, _I thought.

Next, I pulled my consciousness to the killings in Seattle. Visions of carnage floated into view. The murders were escalating. Within seven days, the death toll would be over thirty. I shuddered. Still, I couldn't see any of the attacks reaching outside the city.

Mildly reassured, I tried to follow Victoria's future and was surprised to find that I couldn't see her at all. I frowned, trying again.

Nothing.

I opened my eyes and thought through the possibilities. Only three plausible explanations came to mind.

One, she was on Quileute land, in proximity to the mangy stink dogs, rendering her unseen. Two, she had somehow been killed. I didn't think that likely. Three, she'd figured out a way to hide herself from me. Unlikely, but it had happened before. In 1972, Jasper realized that by rapidly changing his intentions he could keep his future from crystallizing, avoiding my sight. It took a lot of concentration, and whenever Edward tried the trick he got a migraine, but it did work. I pondered the idea. If Victoria had figured it out, it would explain her invisibility. But how was it possible? We'd only met once, and I'd never revealed my gift to her.

Puzzled, I moved on to Bella's future, five years down the road. There were thousands of different scenarios that came to my mind. They were hazy and dreamlike…like looking at vague reflections in a pool. Nothing was concrete. However, from what I could gather, after careful scrutiny, it seemed that out of the most formed and most likely of her futures, she had six in which she was dead. In one of the futures in which she was _not _dead, she was a graduate student at the University of Alaska, working on her master's degree in English Literature. In another not-dead scenario, she was working on a creative writing degree at Dartmouth. In the remaining seven visions that were clear enough to examine, she was a vampire. I examined those seven visions carefully. Bella hunting tigers. Bella kissing Edward. Bella shopping with me. Bella as a red-eyed murderer, killing Mike Newton. Bella reading a book on Van Helsing. Bella as a pregnant vampire joining the army. My eyes flew open and I laughed out loud. Mr. Berty looked up in surprise. I pretended to cough and wheeze a little, to cover up my giggling. _Pregnant vampire Bella joins the army? _I thought, amused more than I should have been.

"Ridiculous. Impossible," Edward hissed angrily from several seats away, making no eye contact with me. Apparently, he was monitoring my thoughts again.

_Improbable, _I corrected. _But I've seen it, so that must mean that there's a way that it _could_ happen. _

"Not a chance. Not a freaking chance."

_I suppose that if she slept with Jake before you bit her but felt guilty about betraying you, she could run away with a guilt complex…_ A feral growl emitted from somewhere low in Edward's chest.

"Not possible!"

_So it's possible for a vampire to be pregnant for all eternity with a werewolf's baby. Very interesting. But how would that affect…_ Edward interrupted before I could carry that train of thought any farther.

"Forget the five-year possibilities. Can you make yourself practical and see if she even lives through the next month?" His voice was quieter than a whisper—spoken in frequencies that only dogs and bats would be able to hear. I smiled. We were good at our private conversations. It'd gotten easier since our three siblings had graduated…no chance of being overheard anymore. I closed my eyes and hit the re-wind button in my mind, flying backward through time till I arrived precisely two weeks from the present. I saw Bella on the phone in Charlie's dated yellow kitchen. She was ordering tickets to the Hanson concert in Tacoma as a graduation present for me. _Excellent. _Bella knew how much I loved Hanson—one of the lead singers bore a striking resemblance to my husband.

_Jasper…_I thought. Suddenly, all my thoughts were bent on him. I saw him hiding behind a dumpster in an alleyway in Texas, near the Mexico border, still as a statue. He let the shadows shield him from the daylight. He was waiting for something. Something or _someone_.

Try as I might, I could see nothing else pertaining to Jasper. I leaned back in my chair, perplexed.

Why would Jasper be going to Mexico? I thought back to his former life with Maria. A pang of irrational jealousy hit me. I knew that his ongoing attachment to the monster that had created him was different from the unconditional love and devotion that he felt for me, but she was still a part of him somehow, a part of him I'd never touch. One of the curses of my gift was that being omnipresent in the future made the past (_Jasper's _past in particular) that much more of a mystery from me—a mystery that drove me insane. Was he planning on going back? Would he spill human blood once again? Would he revert to his former ways, becoming a killing machine once again? If not, what was he _doing_ down there?

I spent the rest of my afternoon in worry. I barely registered Angela's soft talk of graduation plans or Bella's complaints about her calculus exam. Thoughts of Jasper overwhelmed me.

"Alice? What's wrong?" Bella asked, as I emptied my untouched tray of food into the trashcan when we finished "eating." She linked her arm with mine as we walked to the locker room together. I swallowed the venom that welled in my mouth as she drew close to me. As far as food went, Bella smelled as decadent as a chocolate fudge sundae. To me, she was mouth-wateringly sweet and very tempting, but resistible somehow. A treat, rather than actual sustenance. I couldn't imagine how Edward handled _his_ cravings.

"I'm worried about Jasper," I admitted. "I've been seeing things in his near future that bother me."

"Are you going to talk to him about it?" she asked.

"I'm not sure."

"Why wouldn't you? You love each other so much. If there's a problem you should talk through it." I hesitated.

"I know. I love him but…well…true love is complicated."

"Tell me about it." She laughed, knowingly. Suddenly—abruptly—her future disappeared. I gasped.

"What?" she exclaimed, surprised.

"I can't _see _you." I glared at her, as I comprehended the ramifications. Her eyes widened, then her face went from white to red. Muttering under her breath, she spun away from me and pushed her way into the locker room. I hurried after her.

"You're _not_ going to La Push after school Bells," I growled, my hand clamping around her wrist. "You know Edward wouldn't like it. It's not safe. We won't let you put yourself in that kind of danger." She yanked her wrist away angrily, her eyes on the floor.

"I need to check on Jake. I can't leave things the way they are with him."

"What part of 'no werewolves' don't you understand?"

"I owe him an explanation, Alice. He's hurting!"

"Edward will find a way to prevent this."

"My God! Sometimes I can't stand you two!" She stamped her foot. "Haven't you ever heard of minding your own business?"

"Easier said than done. Besides, you _are _our business," I said fiercely. Bella stared at the floor, her lips pursed. I sighed and started over.

"Try to see it from our perspective. You matter to us more than all the rest of the humans in the world put together. We're terrified of losing you. With that in mind, you have to remember that you're a gaping blind spot in Edward's field of vision. Don't you know what it does to us when you go disappearing from mine as well?"

"Big deal. So the all-knowing duo can't monitor my every move. Get over it." I put my fingertips under her chin, forcing her to meet my eye.

"Bella…we love you."

"That doesn't give you right to try control how I live my life or who I'm friends with."

"We're trying to do what's best for you!"

"You're trying to play _God,_" she said through clenched teeth, crossing her arms. I winced, remembering my words from earlier. Her face was red and her eyes were glistening. The smell of her blood warming was delicious. I grimaced, looking forward to the day that she would smell less like a snack and more like a sister. I sighed and put my arm around her.

"Come on Bella. Let's drop this. We've got to get to class." She nodded, disgruntled. We changed our clothes in silence and headed outside.

The rain had stopped at about noon, leaving the outdoor track covered in dull puddles that reflected the gray of the sky. It was unusually warm for early May, and the morning rain had left the air damp and muggy. I prepared myself for an hour of utter drudgery. I hated gym. Being a vampire in PE was like working at Taco Bell after earning a master's degree in culinary arts.

Carlisle insisted that we strive make ourselves appear as normal as possible in gym. We had to splash our faces with water to make it appear that we sweat. We had to avoid physical contact so that other students wouldn't feel how hard our skin was. We had to stage strategic trips and stumbles to avoid the interest of collegiate sports recruiters. Rules, rules, rules.

Of course, there was good cause for the rules. We used to derive a smug satisfaction from our superior physical performance in athletics. It all changed in 1964, however, when Emmett qualified for the Summer Olympics after beating Ludvik Danek's world record for the discus throw. The Volturi threatened to intervene if he didn't get himself "injured" and stay out of the public eye. Carlisle had to come up with bogus x-rays to convince the athletic trainers that his scapula had been fractured. It was all pretty lame. Since then, there was an unspoken agreement among all Cullens that when it came to sports we needed to keep a low profile and refrain from showing off. In other words: no fun allowed.

Granted, I had to admit that gym _had_ been more interesting than usual in the last few days—what with all the incidents involving _balls—_but still…

"All right everyone! Please stop talking!" Coach Clapp yelled. The students ignored him. Exasperated, he blew his whistle.

"SILENCE!!!" he bellowed. Immediately, the class shut up. He began pacing.

"Today, as most of you know, we are beginning the track unit of our curriculum!" His announcement was met with a series of excited shouts and defeated groans. Bella bit her lip, apprehensive.

"To warm up, we will begin with a hundred jumping jacks, fifty push-ups, and fifty sit-ups. Everyone together..._begin!" _I began jumping, keeping easy rhythm.

"One…two…three…four…" our class counted out loud.

"Sis…you should have worn a baggier shirt," Edward whispered, again, in a pitch that no human could have heard.

_Huh?_ I thought.

"There is a particular part of the human female anatomy that is supposed to bounce up and down with this sort of kinesthetic movement. I know that sports bra technology has improved significantly this century, but no spandex device could be that good." I frowned, puzzled.

_Edward…_why_ are you checking out my breasts? _

"I'm not. Tyler Crowley is. His thoughts are practically shouting about them."

_DAMMIT._ I thought. I could hear Edward chuckling softly. I shot a glance sideways, towards Tyler. He was, indeed, staring at my chest. I stopped jumping and bent down to tie my shoe, removing myself from his line of sight. When I stood, I backed up a foot or two, making it so that Tyler would have to physically look over his shoulder in order to watch me. I resumed the jumping jacks.

"Thirty-one! Thirty-two! Thirty-three!" the class yelled.

_You know, while we're discussing crazy teenage hormones, I think Jessica's checking out your butt._

"Half of the pathetic human girls in this class are checking out my butt,"he whispered lightly.

_Don't let it go to your head._

"Awww…but I was going to use my powers of gorgeousness to break all manners of hearts in a two-week stint as a man-whore."

_Edward…the hundred-and-six-year-old prude who hasn't even made it to second base… suddenly becoming a man-whore? Right. _

"How would _you_ know whether I'd reached second base?"

_Oh puh-leeze. Bella's been planning to seduce you, ever since you came back. Believe me, I'd see it if one of her plans were to actually succeed._

"You know…there's certain parts of my life that you don't really have to keep tabs on."

_There are certain parts of my mind that I prefer _you_ stay out of. Yet here we are, having this conversation._

"Fifty-eight! Fifty-nine! Sixty!"

"Not fair, Alice. You know that you have an easier time shutting my future out than I have of shutting your thoughts out."

_That's cause all I have to do to shut you out is to get an annoying song stuck in my head._

"Not this again..."

_Cause I like big BUTTS and I cannot lie! You other brothers can't deny! That when a girl walks in with an itty-bitty-waist and a round thing in your face you get…_

"Point taken. You can stop that now…"

_SPRUNG! Wanna pull out your tough. Cause you notice that butt was stuffed. Deep in those jeans she's wearing, I'm hooked and I can't stop staring!_

"ALICE! CAN IT!"

"Eighty-two! Eighty-three! Eighty-four!" the class counted.

_Oh baby I wanna get with you. And take your picture! My homeboys tried to warn me. But that butt you got makes me so…_

"I am officially logging off of your neural networks. Edward out."

"Ninety-eight! Ninety-nine! One hundred! Everyone down! Push-ups! Real ones. If your strength gives, you can go down to your knees, but I want everyone to do them correctly! Butts down. Bodies flat. Begin!"

As I lithely stretched my body into a plank and began my push-ups, I flipped through different pages of the future. The farther out I tried to see, the more possible futures appeared. So many choices that people hadn't made yet; so many options people were weighing in their minds. Ambivalence really was the thing that shot my powers in the foot. Weaving through multiple realities was overwhelming looking even two weeks out…three weeks out. Nothing I saw that was more than a year out was really all that certain. Looking ten years into the future was a real headache; it was like reaching for the stars and finding only bright nebulous clouds. I backed the train up, closer to the present, finding the vivid futures that were the most nearly formed. I stopped, as if hitting a pause button, when I arrived at Edward's honeymoon.

_This looks entertaining. Should I get some popcorn?_

"Vampires don't eat popcorn. Stay out of that part of my future."

_I'll stay out of your honeymoon if you quit putting me on Bella-watch,_ I thought. Edward growled.

"You _irk_ me. How can someone so tiny be so annoying?"

_This is all beyond ridiculous. If you'd hurry up and stop torturing yourself and just turn her into a vampire, we all could stop worrying about her safety. And you'd finally get laid. The sexual tension between you two is maddening. Just do it and get it over with._

"Don't rush me, Alice. If you rush a miracle, you get rotten miracles."

_Making it to second base is a miracle? _

Our bantering went on through the crunches. When we were done, Coach Clapp blew his whistle and had us line up at the beginning of the track.

"Today, you will be running two miles. Seven times around the track is one mile. For those of you who can't do third grade math, this means that you will be running fourteen laps." Eric raised his hand. "Yes, Mr. Yorkie?" Coach Clapp said.

"I have asthma. May I be excused?"

"Do you have a doctor's note?"

"No."

"What is my policy on being excused from class?" Eric hung his head. His glasses slid down, nearly to the end of his oily nose.

"I need a doctor's note."

"In that case, I think that you will be running today! Anyone else have an excuse?"

"Yeah. I think I'm going to die," Bella whispered to me. "Why would I want to run? I don't even like to _walk._"

"NO TALKING!" Coach Clapp yelled. "Everyone at the start line. Keep track of how many laps you've done. Now, I know that some of you run 10k's every weekend and are in the best shape of your lives." Tyler and Mike high-fived each other. "I know that some of you are lazy couch potatoes who never increase their heart rates if you can help it." Erick Yorkie shifted from one foot to the other. "I don't care what level you are, my expectations are the same for all of you. Run as far and as fast as you are possibly able to. If you get to the point that you cannot go on any farther, you can walk. As soon as you are able to resume running, I want you to start running again. Remember to breathe in through your noses and out through your mouths. Breathe in from your diaphragm to prevent side stitches. Those who finish first will stay at the finish line and cheer in those who are slower. Be there for your classmates! Encourage them! Give them the strength to finish. Are you ready?"

"YES!" cried the NVB, as Bella moaned something that sounded vaguely like "I think I feel sick."

"On your mark…get set…" he blew his whistle and we took off.

Of course, I could have completed the two miles in minutes…nay…seconds. However, that would have been rather counter-productive to the whole hiding-my-secrete-vampiry-identities bit. So I began the fake race…in dreadfully slow motion.

The trick was that neither Edward nor I could come in first. That'd look suspicious. Even if we came in second or third, we'd look too fast. Neither of us played varsity sports (Carlisle's rule). To outdo the in-season athletes would be suspicious. So Edward picked a spot in the crowd that was halfway between Tyler and Morgan. I pulled right up by his side. Lap by lap, one of us would pull inches ahead of the other, only to be passed again. When we got too close to passing Tyler, we'd fall back to the point that we were even with Morgan, and then we'd begin the little cycle again. We crossed the finish line together after about seventeen minutes. Respectable, but still believable paces. I stumbled a bit as I slowed to a stop, pretending to catch my breath.

_What a farce, _I thought. I made my way to the drinking fountain, where I faked sipping at the water, splashing it over my face and through my hair.

I cheered wildly as David Greenman, Angela Webber, and Ben Cheney crossed the finish line in a pack. Several other students passed, and we congratulated them as they went.

"Hurry up! GO GO GO!" Coach Clapp yelled over his megaphone. "I don't want to see any slackers!" Ten minutes later, Jessica and Lauren crossed the finish line. Another three minutes later Eric crossed the line, puffing on his inhaler. Finally, at long last, Bella rounded the last bend of the track at a slow, clumsy jog. She looked miserable. "Come on everyone! Cheer her in to the finish!" Coach Clapp called. The class yelled and screamed at her to hurry up. Embarrassed she picked up the pace, pulling herself across the line. Mike Newton clapped her on the back, awkwardly trying to give her a hug she didn't quite return.

"Great job everyone!" Coach Clapp called. "All right. Everyone grab the hand of the person closest to them." I searched out for Edward, but he'd already taken Bella's hand, snatching it out of Mike's. Tyler reached for mine. I looked desperately for another partner, but everyone around us seemed to have found someone. Why hadn't I seen this coming? Coach Clapp must be pulling something on a whim.

"We're going to practice taking each other's heart rates!" he called. I want everyone to find your partner's radial pulse. Palms up, elbows bent! Follow the line of your partner's thumb down to the wrist and rest your index and middle fingers in the groove just inside the bone. Do not use your thumb, as that has a pulse of its own. We will count for fifteen seconds, on my mark. Multiply that number by four, and you will have your number of heartbeats per minute. Are you ready?

A clear, solid, forceful vision abruptly came to my mind. I watched Tyler check my pulse. In the vision, he became concerned when he found my skin ice-cold after running two miles on an unusually warm day. I saw his confusion grow to alarm when he found no pulse. While any other classmate might dismiss this as a fluke, Tyler had played varsity sports enough to know precisely where to look and was concerned enough about me to raise a stink. I watched in horror as the gym teacher pulled out his stethoscope and blood pressure cuff to check my vitals. The vision ended as suddenly as it had started.

I opened my eyes, alarmed. This was not good. Would this end here, with a suspicious gym teacher, or would he consult the school nurse? No nurse could be fooled. I thought quickly, trying desperately to think of a way out.

I saw Eric puff on his inhaler and got an idea. I collapsed to the ground.

"Alice?" Tyler said.

I clutched my throat and began wheezing heavily, pulling the oxygen I didn't need into my lungs in strangled bursts. I rolled myself up, put my head between my knees and tried to constrict my airway as much as I could.

"I…can't…breathe…" I gasped. The class broke rank and stared at me, astounded.

"Ms. Cullen!" Coach Clapp cried, striding over to me. "Are you all right?"

"Asthma! Can't breathe…forgot…inhaler…" I wheezed again, loudly this time, for good measure.

"I didn't know you had asthma," Tyler said, scratching his head.

"Exercise…induced…help!" Coach Clapp felt my hands, which were still wet from the drinking fountain.

"My God! You're breaking out in a cold sweat," he said. The class was murmuring in concern. Jessica began whispering to people around her, standing on tiptoe, hopping a little, trying to get a better view. Her cell phone would have a field day with this one. Eric Yorkie, however, was not going to miss this chance to be a noble, valiant boy.

"Alice!" he cried, running over. He kneeled down next to me, shaking me his blue plastic device. "Here," he said, putting it in my hand. I grabbed the inhaler and took a puff of Ventolin. The droplets of albuterol misted through my lungs, tasting mildly repulsive. _Human chemicals. Gross. I don't think I've been forced to take human medicine since 1968 when I faked a low-back injury to avoid a field trip on a sunny day, _I thought.I took one more puff, just for show. I held my breath, looked around, and exhaled.

"Thanks Eric. I'm fine now. I think you saved my life." The chess-nerd virtually puffed with pride. Tyler looked a little miffed.

"Do you want me to take you to the nurse's office?" Eric offered, smiling widely. I noticed that one of his pimples had burst sometime during his run. Ew.

"It's okay Yorkie, _I'll_ take her," Tyler said, stepping closer to me.

"No, really, I'll do it. I'm the one who knows a thing or two about asthma."

"But I was her pulse partner. I should take her!"

"Excuse me boys," a velvety voice said, from behind me. "If you don't mind, she _is_ my sister. I'll take her." I turned my head and accepted Edward's hand, grateful for the escape. We headed back into the building together.

"Asthma?" he said softly, golden eyes twinkling. "Seriously?" I wheezed. He laughed, a hearty, lively sound. "I_ had_ to intervene. If you could only have heard what those two were thinking." I grimaced.

"Actually, I think that for once, I'd prefer it if you left me in the dark. Sometime there's such a thing as too much information."

"Perhaps you're right sis. Perhaps you're right."


	7. Lauren Plays Floor Hockey

_Author's Note__: I didn't think I'd be able to write another chapter of "Edward in PE" this quickly, for my fanfiction efforts have been directed elsewhere lately. Marcy and I are obsessively working on an absurd crackfic called "Pregnant Vampire Bella Joins the Army." It is quite possibly the most ridiculous story ever to be written in proper English. At random points of the day, I continually find myself giggling over the one-liners in it. It's been a hysterical and addictive writing process. We're already working on chapter four, and can find it under my account or MarcyJ's._

_I've had Lauren's chapter plotted out for nearly a year, but was dreading writing it, for being inside of Lauren's head is like swimming in arsenic. _

_Normal disclaimers apply. Thank you to my wonderful and talented Twilight Mom beta readers, blondie AKA robin and MarcyJ._

**Lauren Plays Floor Hockey**

"Vote for me!" I cried, shoving a flamboyant fuchsia flier into the unsuspecting hands of a startled boy carrying a tuba. I wasn't sure of his name, since I normally made a point of not associating with band geeks _or_ short boys. He squinted at the flier, which caused his unseemly freckles to scrunch together, turning his face into one giant community freckle. _Gross, _I thought.

"Read it," I advised.

"I can't," he whined.

"Why? Are you dyslexic or allergic to pink or something?" The squinty-eyed fool looked up at me repentantly, shifting the tuba case to his side so he could get a better look at the flier. The tuba case slipped over the edge of his bony hip and hit the linoleum floor with a crash.

"S…sorry," he stammered, scrambling to pick it back up. His face turned the color of Revlon's _Just Bitten_ lip stain. "One of my contacts fell out last hour. I can't see very well."

_Moron,_ I thought, rolling my eyes, but I didn't say that out loud. It would have been rude, and rudeness doesn't win votes. Since gaining a vote was the only reason I was lowering myself to this dolt's inferior plane of reality, I had to be nice. So I put my best face forward.

"I'm running for prom queen," I said with aspartame-like sweetness. "I'd appreciate your vote. The flier describes all the things I've done for the student body over the last four years." The boy scratched his head, causing dandruff to fall like snow.

"I'm sorry—but I'm a freshman. I'm not allowed to go to prom unless an upperclassman asks me out. So I can't actually vote for you," he said remorsefully.

"Oh." I yoinked the flier back. No point in wasting it—I'd paid good money for color prints at Copies Plus in Port Angeles. Image was everything in a campaign, and if my alluring face was going to be out there PR'ing for me, I wanted it to be as resplendent as possible. Grayscale was incapable of doing it justice

"Are you going to ask me to prom?" the tuba player asked hopefully, his left eye bright with anticipation (his right was squinting as though he had Turret's syndrome). "I mean…gosh…that would be awfully nice of you. I never dreamed that I'd get asked out by a senior." I stuck out my lower lip and exhaled quickly, blowing my glamorous sweep-across bangs away from my eyes. They fell back into my field of vision as quickly as they'd left.

"Sorry froshie," I said pointedly. "I'd rather ask a rubber chicken with a pulley in the middle than a loser like you. Besides, I've already got a date." Before he could further contaminate me with any more scalp flakes, I spun on my heel and walked away.

I'd lied, of course. I had no date for prom, nor did I intend to accept one. I despised monogamy for the same reason I'd despised choosing between flip-flops at Pay-Less: being committed to one choice made it so hard to flirt with the divine possibilities available in all the rest.

"Vote for me!" I exhorted, handing fliers to random people in as I made my way towards the English classroom. Everybody stared at me as I strutted down the halls—boys because they liked what they saw and girls because they wished they were me. I glanced at my watch: 7:50. Five minutes late for some; right on time for me. I opened the door to the classroom I knew wouldn't be used until third hour, shut it behind me, and locked it.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are," I cooed. The closet door behind the teacher's desk burst open and a visually pleasing composite of muscle, Abercrombie clothes, and raging testosterone barreled out. The young man raced to me and attempted to violently press his mouth against mine. I pulled away, stayed his advance with one hand, then brushed his lips ever so lightly with mine.

"Good morning Connor," I crooned, teasing his lips with my words.

"Lauren," he said in a low, breathless voice. He wasn't looking into my eyes, of course. Guys never did. I didn't expect them to…not with the shirts I wore.

"This is a little early for our cheating escapade," I said in a sultry voice. "This is dangerous…we could get caught." Conner grinned, playfulness gleaming in his eyes like the topcoat on my pedicured toenails.

"I'm done with cheating," he said.

"What do you mean?" I asked, suddenly alarmed. "You…you don't want to see me any more?"

"No, silly!" he stroked my face. "I finally broke up with Jessica." My heart thudded erratically like a toy drum in the hands of a two year old. _Oh God. Please tell me he didn't do it for me. _I tried to remain calm.

"When did that happen?"

"Two days ago." Huh. Must have missed the memo. Normally Jessica would have informed me right away, in an exasperating spatter of yowls and waterworks. _Why didn't she tell me?_ I wondered nervously._ I'm her best friend. She trusts me with everything__. It's not like her to keep secrets from me. _

"_Why _did you break up with her?" My stomach was flipping like a gymnast on a trampoline.

"Lauren…" he whispered softly, kissing the tip of my ear, "Don't you know by now? I'm falling in love with you again." I backed up a step, looked up skittishly at his earnest expression, trying to judge the situation.

On one hand, I certainly was _not_ in love with Conner. I'd only been using him for the titillating adventure. No-strings-attached cheating with ex-boyfriends gave me a certain rush, the kind I always got when I nicked a tube of lipstick from the mall (Victoria Secret's _Guilt Free _and Clinique's _Angelic_ were my favorite spoils). The adrenaline rush came from knowing that I was only doing something a _little _wrong…nothing that would _hurt _anyone…but that I still had to work at not to getting caught. Having Conner emotionally involved would ruin the game.

On the other hand, I _could _start a new game and string Conner along for a couple of months. Why not? Graduation was around the corner, and we were going to different colleges. It'd be like one of the summer romances I used to have at Bible camp—joined at the hip one week, not returning letters the next.

However, there were a few drawbacks to plan B. It was generally a no-no in the girlfriend book of ethics to start dating your best friend's ex immediately after they split. At this crucial point in my queen campaign, I couldn't afford the reputation as "the other woman." What's more, it could spoil my stag plans for prom. I didn't want a repeat of last year.

"Conner," I said softly, lowering my mascara-laden eyelashes demurely. "I'd love to make all your fantasies come true. However, we must be discreet about this. We need to be sensitive to Jessica's feelings." He groaned.

"This longing I have is like a fire inside of me! I'll explode if I keep it in any longer!" His eyes were screwed shut in frustration. For a moment I could have sworn that his jeans were becoming misshapen below the beltline. "_This_ year, I want prom to be the most memorable night of our lives." Inwardly, I groaned. Junior year, Conner and I had attended prom together, and his expectations of what would happen in the hotel room afterwards had been the cause of our break-up. At the time, I was worried that I might be pregnant, and had refused him. The missed period was a false alarm after all, but it had caused enough tension for us to quit talking for several months, during which time, he started dating Jessica.

"All in due time," I purred, cat-like. "For now, we need to keep a low profile." I hooked one acrylic-nailed finger under the collar of his T-shirt and pulled him close, bringing his face an inch from mine. "We can be together again, I promise. But we need to wait until after graduation," I whispered.

"After graduation?" he cried dejectedly. "I can't wait that long!" He ran his hand up my thigh. I pushed him away, fully aware of the power I now held over him. I jumped down from the desk and sauntered way from him, adjusting my denim miniskirt so that the top of my magenta thong formed a T over its fashionably frayed edge.

"After graduation!" I called over my shoulder, in a sing-song voice. I heard him cry out in frustration behind me as my lips curl up in a wicked grin. He was _mine_.

I was reapplying the lip-gloss Connor had kissed off when the 8:00 bell rang and Jessica hobbled into the English on her crutches. She sat down next to me, breathless.

"Hi Jess!" I said, my gaze not leaving my compact mirror.

"I've got news that's simply to _die _for," she bubbled, seizing my arm. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. I'd seen ferrets with less energy.

"Do tell," I said indifferently, still admiring my own exquisite reflection. She bounced in her seat, causing her goofy poofy spiral curls to spring up and down.

"Alice is off the ballot for prom queen!" She squealed in a manner that would have put a prize piglet out of his job. I snapped my compact shut, shrieked, and sprung from my seat, giving my diminutive friend a walloping hug. When I was done overreacting, I sat back down, gasping for breath.

"I knew you were good at adjusting people's popularity scores by manipulating the grapevine, Jess, but _this…THIS…_takes your abilities to a whole new level! How did you do it?"

She waved her hand. "I had nothing to do with it at all." She lowered her voice and glanced around, speaking in the low yet loud tones she reserved only for the secrets she wanted everyone to know. "Apparently, Alice never wrote the essay. It was a fake." My jaw dropped in shock.

"You mean…she copied it from somewhere else? Who? A famous poet?" _I knew Alice wasn't intelligent enough to come up with something like that on her own._

Jessica giggled with glee.

"Alice actually _can't _and…weirdly enough…_doesn't want to _be prom queen. Turns out that Alice, Edward and Bella are all going to Florida that weekend to visit Bella's mom." I stared at her, bewildered.

"Shit! Why the hell did she run in the first place?"

"She didn't. Edward put the essay in for Alice as a joke, knowing that she wouldn't be able to go anyway and that the prom queen thing wasn't really her cup of tea in the first place. When Alice realized what happened, she went to the prom committee and vacated the prom queen sandbox all on her own accord!" Jessica continued to bounce, squeezing my hand with excitement.

I, smiled, feeling warm on the inside, like I'd just downed a Grande Mocha Latte from Starbucks. (I loved Starbucks. My grandma had given me $300.00 worth of stock in their company as an early graduation present. I was thrilled about it, knowing that, with the way the economy was going, I'd probably have enough cash for a trip to Vegas once college was done.) This was good. This was very good.

"This really _does _help my chances of winning," I said, writhing with the joy of victory. "One less person to compete against. Ahhh." Jessica gasped, her protruding eyes nearly popping from their sockets.

"Wait…you don't know the rest of the good news, do you?"

"No! What could be better?" I hoped silently that Angela had been caught doing drugs or something scandalous like that.

"My name's now on the list!" she cried. My heart jumped into my throat like a kangaroo, causing me to choke. I was more surprised than pleased.

"How did that end up happening?" I asked, coughing, trying to hide my displeasure at the news. "Why didn't they just reduce the number of candidates?" Jessica's eyes shone like glow-in-the-dark superballs.

"This is the real kicker." Jess paused dramatically. "_Bella Swan_ suggested that they replace Alice!" My mind reeled.

"_Huh?"_

"Bella knew how important this was to me, and knowing I was next on the list, she suggested that they add me back in before the final votes are tallied. I guess that she wants to make peace!" Jessica sighed a happy sigh. "All wrongs are being made right. All failures are turning into victory. Old friendships are being re-kindled and restored. Could you imagine a better way for high school to come to an end?"

I had just cause to panic at this point. Jess had gone from my campaign partner to my biggest threat in one morning. Sure, she wasn't as pretty as me, or nearly as popular. But she had the girl-next-door look that tended to intimidate inferior beings a lot less than my model-like perfection, making nerds more likely to warm up to her than me. A combination of sympathy votes for her sprained ankle and dork votes for her lack of beauty could put a big enough cut in my following to do me in.

As alarmed as this all made me, there was no easy way for me to discourage her from running. I had to still play the part of her best friend. I would have to tread these eel-infested waters carefully.

"This is wonderful!" I said, feigning the utmost enthusiasm. "We are _both_ nominated. I always thought that making it this far would be great in and of itself, but knowing that we _both _made it makes it that much better! We're on this journey together!" I squeezed her hand and we dove into a rabid discussion about our dual campaign, and how we were going to support one another.

When lecture started, however, questions and accusations tangled in my mind like a ball of yarn in the paws of a kitten. _Bella_ had gotten Jessica into the race. Did that mean that Jessica was now on _Bella's _side? Had they secretly been friends all along? This was the type of anomaly that threatened the natural order of the universe.

Jessica had always (since last fall anyways) shared my sentiments of utter contempt for the plain-faced outsider. We hated Bella Swan. We hated her because, despite the fact that she was neither beautiful nor special, she'd managed to win the acceptance and admiration of not only the boys who had previously fawned over _us, _but of the one boy who had time after time _rejected_ us That was simply unacceptable.It would have been one thing if she were _cool. _But she most certainly _wasn't _cool; she was scrawny, boring, and shy. The fact that someone of such low caliber was capable of stealing my _rightful_ center of attention made me want to vomit. It was utterly wrong, like a servant becoming a king. I was surprised that the earth didn't tremble at the unjustness of it.

When Edward had moved to L.A. the previous fall and Bella had gone all zombie, Jessica was the one who'd managed my grassroots campaign to snip Bella's blossoming social life in the bud. We vowed that together, we would make sure that Bella was never invited to another party or outing with our group of cool friends ever again.

Jess was the one who spread the little rumors, told the little tales. She was the one who'd divided our lunch table in half. And yet here she was, buddy-buddy with the enemy once more. How could I ever trust her again? One minute she was saying "I snubbed Bella! Look at me!" and the next minute she was joining forces with the little twerp to cripple my goals and dreams. _Hypocrite!_ I thought. _The next thing you know, she's going to be wearing a T-shirt that says "Stanley and Swan: BFF!"_ Jealous and upset, I considered "coming out of the closet" with Conner, just for revenge.

At that moment, however, I noticed something unusual. Edward Cullen was staring at me with a mixture of incredulity and amusement. I gasped. _He_ was smiling at me! Could he have noticed me at last? _Of course he's noticed you Lauren! _I thought to myself. _You're a babe. It was only a matter of time. _Quickly, before the opportunity passed, I pulled one of my pink fliers from my bag. I jotted a note on it as quickly as I could.

_Edward, I heard that you were going to be out of town during the weekend of prom. If you would be so kind as to drop off your absentee ballot to Mrs. Cope's office, voting for me, I would be much obliged. Yours Truly, Lauren Mallory._

I whispered for Jess to pass it to him, which she did. He opened it, chuckled, and scribbled a response with lightning speed. He folded it quickly into a delicate origami swan and tossed it onto Jessica's desk.

Zealously, I snatched it and read the note that was emblazed on the bird's wings. His penmanship was beautiful, like a script font in Microsoft Word.

_Lauren, I regret to inform you that my vote has already been submitted. Though I'm sure that you possess many qualities that certain students in this school find appealing, Bella convinced me that the best candidate for prom queen is, in fact, Angela Webber. I wish you the best of luck in all your endeavors. –EC_

My blood boiled and I crushed the paper bird. Bella was playing more than one side here! She was swaying the critical votes of the undecided in every direction but mine. It was all an attack on…_me. _How _dare _she?

It was disgusting really. Bella was afraid of me—afraid of my popularity, afraid of my power. Too insecure to face me alone, she was attempting to undermine my position by attacking the weak and helpless in my camp. How atrocious. The last thing the student body needed was some klutz from Flagstaff busting in, harassing them, and telling them how to live their lives. It was wrong. Sick and wrong.

The anxiety and stress built for the rest of the morning, and I found myself unable to concentrate in any of my classes. It wasn't until I was sitting at the lunch table a few hours later, however, that all the tribulations of the day came to a head. As I approached my usual lunch table, I found everyone at it engrossed in conversation.

"I heard that it's going to be the party of the century—"

"An actual dance floor! With lights and lasers. It's going to be like a _real _nightclub!"

"…whole senior and junior classes are invited…"

"We actually get to _see _the inside of the Cullen mansion! Who ever thought this day would come?"

"…getting a DJ!?"

"Um…_ex-__**cuse**__ me_?" I said, loudly enough to call everyone's attention back to where it belonged (on me, of course). "What's going on here?"

"Alice Cullen is throwing our class a graduation party!" Samantha piped up, breathlessly. "It's going to be the event of the year…the event no one wants to miss! _Everyone_ is invited." She handed me a four by five piece of thick, black, scented paper.

The paper was covered with some kind of odd coating that sparkled when you changed its angle. An almost transparent image of a nightclub was set as a background to the type. The print was shining silver and read:

**What: The most amazing dance party the class of 2006 could possibly imagine**

**When: Sunday, June ****11****th****, 8:00 PM to 1:00 AM (No school the next morning!)**

**Where: The Cullen home. Directions on back.**

**What to Wear: Dress to impress! Nightclub theme.**

**Attractions: DJ "Raging Bear", party lights, disco ball, lasers, food, beverages, and MORE!**

**Who's invited: The Senior Class and guests**

**Hosted By: Bella Swan and Alice Cullen**

"It's going to be _awesome!_" Angela said, her brown eyes dancing through the wisps of light brown hair that fell in her eyes from her messy bun.

I clenched my fist, crushing the beautiful invitation like I'd crushed the beautiful paper bird. This confirmed my every suspicion! Bella _was _plotting against me. She knew, just as well as everyone else in the school did, that _my _graduation party was going on that very night. Leave it to the Cullens to one-up me with a bigger, badder party. I shook my head in anger, feeling indignant tears welling in my eyes. Who did Bella think she _was_? She wasn't even being subtle about it! Unable to withstand being at the same table as her, I stormed across the cafeteria, emptying my uneaten food into the trashcan.

"Lauren?" Startled, I turned around. It was Mike.

"What do _you _want?" I asked in an icy tone. I frowned. Why was I being nasty to _Mike?_ He'd done nothing wrong. "Sorry…" I said, faltering. "I didn't mean to snap at you like that. I'm having a _really_ bad day." He looked uncomfortable.

"I suppose that I'll probably just have to talk to you later then…" he mumbled.

"No! Tell me," I said quickly, grabbing his arm. "Please." He sighed.

"Well…I'm sure you heard about Conner dumping Jessica right before prom," he said. I nodded innocently.

"Sure. That was kind of mean of him."

"And of course you know about her injury." I nodded again.

"Well, I was thinking that she could probably use some cheering up. I asked her if she'd like to go to the prom together…you know…just as friends. For old times sake."

"Good for you," I said. He continued to look at me thoughtfully, and then took a deep breath. His following words came out in a rush.

"I heard from Edward, who heard Tyler, who heard from Conner, that you didn't have a date yet." _Damn! _I thought. _Don't these people have anything better to do than to obsess over my love life?_

"That's true," I admitted, unwillingly.

"Well, I was thinking that it might be really nice if her closest friends all took her out for a nice dinner and paid her way on prom night. You know…at Bella Italia in Port Angeles or something."

"That's such a nice idea!" I heard myself say. "I totally don't have plans." _What? What am I saying? I don't want to do that! I want to get to prom early and round up the last minute votes! Oh crap!_

"Wonderful!" Mike said, grinning. "Ben and Angela are coming, and since Eric Yorkie doesn't have a date, you two could go together. It will just be the six of us! I'll let Angela know that you're in. Man! I'm glad Cullen suggested this! It's an _awesome _idea." Before I could protest, he'd flashed me a quick smile and ran back to the lunch table to confirm things with Angela, who gave me a quick wave. My blood ran cold. Edward Cullen had somehow tricked Mike into asking me the right question to get me to go to prom with _Eric Yorkie. _Me…Lauren Mallory…going to prom with _Yorkie? _The kid who brought _Dungeons & Dragons_ magazines to sex-ed so he could fantasize over Mind Flayers? Sick, sick, sick!

Bella. _She _was behind this. She had to be! I glanced around the lunchroom, looking for my nemesis, and found her and Edward sitting at a table by themselves, fingers entwined, intensely wrapped up in whatever they were talking about.

_Look at her! Hanging off of him like a leech! Ugh! _I thought. All of the sudden, he looked up. His eyes met mine, and he smirked. For a moment, I was overwhelmed by the beauty of his gaze. Fascinated, I blew him a kiss.Abruptly, his eyes left mine, and he focused on Bella once more. It was a small movement, a tiny gesture, but it was enough to confirm my suspicions.

_There was something there! Something between us! He's attracted to me…I saw it in his eye just there…I could have sworn it. If it wasn't for her…_The image in my mind of Edward dancing with me at prom, his arms encircling my waist, was shattered as his lips met Bella's. With a sudden, intensive bout of fury, I stormed down the hall and violently kicked open the door to the girl's locker room, unsettling a couple of girls who were trying to exit. Ignoring them, I made my way to my locker and changed. I was far too early to go to class, so I spent the extra ten minutes getting ready. I pulled my bangs back to make a little poof above my forehead, using two bobby pins. I added some under-eye concealer to cover up where my eyeliner had smudged and tossed on another coat of black mascara—just for good measure. After five minutes of adjusting my boobs in my sports bra to make sure they were looking as perky as possible, I walked into the gym.

It was raining outside (big surprise) so our track and field curriculum was on hold. Coach Clapp was in the supply closet, digging through the equipment. Soccer nets had been set up at each end of the gym. "Could I get some help over here?" he called. Several of the boys volunteered, and a few minutes later they emerged, bearing red and blue plastic hockey sticks and several pucks.

"I hate floor hockey," Jessica groaned, walking up to me. "Man! I'm so ticked that it's raining. This is going to suck." She crossed her arms and looked discontentedly over the lines on the gym floor. Suddenly, I noticed something that had escaped my attention before.

"How does your ankle feel?" I asked, pointedly.

"It er…feels okay…I guess." Her face reddened. "Why do you ask?"

"Yesterday you were gimping around on crutches all morning—yet when afternoon came—you somehow managed to jog two miles without them." I narrowed my eyes. "That's very odd…isn't it?" Her already red face turned a deep shade of purple.

"It's been feeling better," she stammered.

"Uh-huh," I hissed, my temper flaring. "Yet…this morning, Mike Newton had to carry your books all day long, because, once again, you couldn't walk on it."

"It…er…was swollen from all the exercise…" She looked like a fly caught in a web. I glared at her, lowering my voice to a threatening whisper.

"Where are your crutches now, Jess? Shouldn't you be sitting on the bleachers? Where's your doctor's note?" She stared at me, helpless and speechless. My day suddenly improved as I realized that I'd caught her in her lie. Once word got out that she'd been faking her injury, her reputation would be ruined. She'd be classified as a liar, and no one would vote for her. Jessica's face went from red to white.

"The doctor's note is right here, actually," said Edward Cullen mildly, strolling up to us in those ridiculous seventies gym shorts that only he could get away with wearing. He put a small slip of white paper into Jessica's hand. "My father said that you left this in his office two days ago. He wanted me to make sure that you were _not _putting weight on that foot. Every step you take on it, even if the pain is going down, is going to increase your chances of re-injuring it. He was pretty upset when I told him that you ran two miles on it yesterday." Jessica looked at her savior with utmost adoration. _Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit! _I thought. _What the hell is wrong with you Edward? You're the hottest guy in the school! I'm the hottest girl in the world! You're supposed to be worshipping the ground I walk on, not aiding the axis of evil! _

"Oh Edward!" Jessica blathered. "Thank you so much! I freaked out yesterday when Coach Clapp was yelling at Yorkie about the asthma thing. I wanted to sit out, but I knew that I'd forgotten the note and…" she continued to ramble on, utterly besotted by his dazzling smile.

I felt anger wash over me like a fever. _Bella _was behind this. She _had _to be. She had convinced Edward to vote for Angela, but then had him validate Jessica's fake sprained ankle, after getting Jessica on the ballot. It was all a cleverly designed ambush against me! The nerve of her! If it weren't for her interference, he'd be in love with me. I had to believe it!

_Perhaps it's just because Forks is such a dull town. _I thought. _After living in Tulsa __her whole life, she must be bored out of her mind. That's it. With nothing better to do or worry about, she's decided to pick on me. Well, she's messed with the wrong girl! I'll show her._ At that moment, I realized that Edward Cullen was staring at me again, grinning ear to ear, shaking with laughter. Having his attention on me, I struck a flattering pose, winking , flirtatiously. His eyes were twinkling as if something I was doing was amusing him, and he winked at me. My heart leapt. _My goodness! He's only acting like this to get my attention! It's his way of…flirting with me! He's like a kid on a playground…pulling a girl's pigtail because he's never been taught the proper way to romance a woman. That's forgivable. I'll just make sure to encourage him further! Ha ha! He's mine now,_ _mine at last. _I vowed to make my mutual attraction as visible as possible.

Coach Clapp had us count off one-two-one-two to divide up into teams. I ended up on a team with Conner, Tyler, and Mike. Alice's team made Bella the goalie (of course) while mine made me a forward. The whistle blew, and we were off. I wasn't usually the physically aggressive type, but I knew that if I could just get the hockey puck past Bella Swan, I'd feel a little bit better.

Alice scored one goal, and Samantha scored another. Conner scored and Bella tripped over her own hockey stick, trying unsuccessfully to block his shot, banging her knee on the floor, bruising it. I found myself wishing that she'd fallen harder.

As Mike missed a shot that looked like it should have gone in for sure, the puck bounced around the outside of the net and slid to a halt just a few feet away from me. I dribbled it up until I was near to the goal. Bella's expressive brown eyes met mine apprehensively.

Suddenly, a difficult choice was before me. The puck was right in front of me and scoring would be as easy as obtaining a high-carb meal at Noodles & Company. On the other hand, from where I was at, I could easily pull my stick back and deliver a sharp, strong whack to the outside of Bella's right knee with enough force to do some mild damage. It would _totally_ look like an accident. I wouldn't _seriously _hurt her of course…I'd just send an assertive message that she needed to back off. I chose the latter option. I after all she'd done, it was exactly what she deserved…another month of May in a walking cast. I swung the stick back and prepared to strike.

At that moment, however, I felt something hard and cold slam into my left ribs with enough force to knock the wind out of me. I flew five feet back in the air and somersaulted backwards, flipping over my left shoulder and landing flat on my back. I screamed. The worst pain I'd ever felt in my entire life lanceted through my left shoulder. It hurt to inhale. Stars spun behind my closed eyelids. I opened my mouth and screeched like a vulture.

"I'm _so _sorry…I didn't mean to run into you," Alice Cullen said flatly, her flute like voice tinkling like musical notes. He eyes were stony. "It was a _total_ accident." Coach Clapp blew his whistle and strode over to me. The rest of the class stood around, muttering and pointing.

"Do you feel dizzy at all?" he asked. I shook my head. "Can you sit up?" I tried. Since the pain was in my shoulder, it wasn't that difficult. He prodded at my deltoid with his fingers.

"On a scale of one to ten, how much pain are you in?" he asked.

"Eleven!" I said, wincing.

"Lauren, can you bring your arm up overhead, coming to the front like this?" I followed his movements. "Good. Now, can you bring it up overhead, going to the side? Excellent. Now, touch the back of your head. All right…now, put your hand in the small of your back. Wonderful. Do any of those motions make the pain better or worse?" he asked.

"No!" I gasped. "It just hurts!"

"Can you point to where you feel the pain?" I pointed to a spot.

"Here!" He palpated the area I'd pointed to. "No… that's not it…it's a little further back." Waves of nausea poured through me, and I rocked on the floor, curling up into a ball.

"Here?"

"No…a little further up. ARGH! It's all tender!"

"I can't really seem to locate the sore spot. Let me try a few other tests." He pushed my upper arm around in its socket, asking me different questions about pain levels. He then had me hold my arm out still in front of me and told me to hold it still and to not let him move it. Nothing that he did relieved the pain, however. It continued to throb, the ache diffusely winding through my shoulder region like a writhing worm.

"I think she bruised my ribs too," I moaned, glaring at Alice. "Stupid, little, emo, PUNK!" The midget spike-head stood over me with her arms crossed.

"Like I said, it was an accident," she said in a bored voice, rolling her goofy amber eyes. _Jerk, _I thought. _How DARE she make light of my suffering? _Coach Clapp stood up, brushing the particles dirt and grime from the rarely cleaned floor off of his pants.

"Well, Lauren," he said, scratching his balding head. "I actually couldn't find anything wrong with you. Your motion, strength, and joints seem fine."

"What is it about the 'eleven out of ten' pain points that I don't understand?_" _I snarled. He reached out a hand to help me up.

"I'll excuse you from school early, but I don't think anything is wrong with you. You're just over-reacting. Drive yourself home, put some Ben-Gay on it, and you'll feel fine in the morning." Murmurs were going through the crowd. This _couldn't _be happening. I was in excruciating pain…accused of _faking_, while Jessica(who actually _was_ faking) sat on the bleachers, basking in the sympathy of the whole school. In an instant, I saw my whole reputation going to the pits. I would be wrongly labeled as a girl who cried "wolf," just to get attention. No one would vote for me now. I glanced over at Alice, trying to give her the evil eye. However, her vision was unfocused, distant, as if she were off in la-la land.

My eyes went to Edward Cullen. He'd been staring at me all day, a result of my undeniably beauty, no doubt. I was curious to see if the spell I'd woven around him still held or if he too believed Coach Clapp's menacing lies. I was surprised to see, however, that he wasn't looking at me at all. Instead, he had his cell phone open, and he was speaking rapidly into it. It was hard to make out his words over the buzz of gossip going on around me but what I could understand sounded vaguely like this:

"Yes I'm certain the curse sign is positive." _What the heck is a curse sign? Or did he say cars sign? _"No, I don't need Alice to check the prognosis; I'm a hundred percent certain that my diagnosis is correct. She requires medical attention quickly, or she may die. Go ahead and book the OR, Dad, and send an ambulance _immediately. _Yes, I'm positive. The gym teacher is an imbecile. Please hurry." Was I just hallucinating? What the hell was going on? He snapped his cell phone shut, grabbed Alice's arm, and pulled her sternly away from the crowd. The two of them looked like they were having an argument. Weakly, I collapsed back to the floor.

Coach Clapp urged me to get up, trying to get me to the sidelines so that the hockey game could continue. The rest of the class just stood around staring…judging.

I glanced over to Bella, expecting to find her to be gloating, over the success of her schemes. To my surprise, her expression was not one of triumph but of horror. _That doesn't make much sense to me, _I thought. I glanced back over to Edward and Alice again, and realized that Edward was pointing first to Bella, then to me, and he appeared to be chastising his in low tones. Her expression remained indifferent.

It was then that the truth hit me: Edward Cullen loved me. He was angry that Alice had stepped in and defended Bella. He was angry that I was hurt. He'd finally come to his senses and come to my rescue, at the time of my greatest need. Yes. That was it. That was it. It was all going to be okay. He was going to dump her, get with me, and we'd live happily ever after.

The last thing I heard before I blacked out was the sound of sirens approach the building, but the final thought was a happy one: Edward cared about me. Edward liked me. Edward called an ambulance to rescue me. He was _mine._


	8. JUST FOR FUN!

**JUST FOR FUN: Edward's Differential Diagnosis Problem**

Edward solved this differential diagnosis problem in his head in a fraction of a second! Can you solve it at all?

**Directions: **Based on the evidence provided in the history and examination, pick the correct diagnosis from the hypothesis list below. In a hundred words or less, defend your answer and explain the clinical reasoning behind your choice.

**Helpful Hints: **Edward suffers severely from condition number two on the list. Jake is afflicted with condition six and possibly condition four. Bella has a bad case of condition number fourteen. Have fun!

**Subjective History**

Patient Name: Lauren Maleficent Mallory

Age: 18

Sex: Female

Chief Complaint: Acute, severe left shoulder pain

Mechanism of Injury: Patient received a sudden blow to her left thoracolumbar region when a pixie-like vampire violently ran into her in a game of floor hockey during a local high school gym class. The patient somersaulted backwards as a result of the impact, rolling over her left shoulder and landing in a supine position. She was placed into long sitting by her gym teacher (a certified athletic trainer) who performed her examination. She tolerated the position for six minutes and twenty-nine seconds before becoming increasingly agitated and losing consciousness. Paramedics arrived on scene, stabilized her spine, and transported her to the county hospital to be further evaluated by Dr. Carlisle Cullen.

Past Medical History: Tested positive for Chlamydia in 2004 (treated with Doxycycline). Tested positive for Syphilis in 2005 (treated with Penicillin).

Past Surgical History: Appendix removed in 2001, tonsils removed 1999.

Social History: Occasional use of tobacco, ETOH, and methamphetamine. Lives with parents in 2 story house. Exercises five times per week in high school physical education class.

Mental Status: Suffers from illusions of grandeur, impulsiveness, kleptomania, and promiscuity. Suspected bipolar disorder type II (hypomania), but a full psychiatric consult is necessary to confirm the presence of a chemical imbalance.

Occupation: Full time high school student. Does not work outside of school.

Family History: Paternal Grandmother died of a myocardial infarction. Maternal Grandfather had an angioplasty in 2004, with a stent placed in the right coronary artery due to 99 percent occlusion. Father has Type II Diabetes Mellitus.

Medications: Ortho-Tricyclin Lo, acyclovier

Allergies: Cats, peanuts

Pain: 11/10 localized around the glenohumeral joint and deltoid region.

Arousal: A&Ox3 during examination, A&Ox0 by the time paramedics arrived

**Examination**

Posture: Moderate left lateral shift of thorax. Left shoulder mildly elevated. Decreased thoracic kyphosis and increased lumbar lordosis.

Gait: Not tested, due to patient's refusal to stand.

Integument: Contusions around T11 and T12 costal region. No abrasions or skin lesions.

Glenohumeral AROM: No difficulty initiating movement. Complained of equal pain during motion, at rest, and at end range. No painful arc.

Flexion: 181

Extension: 33

Abduction: 178

Internal Rotation: 85

External Rotation: 93

Myotomes:

Biceps 4 plus

Triceps 4 plus

Deltoid 5

Latissimus Dorsi 5

Shoulder Elevation: 5

GH Joint Play: Active compression tests negative. Joint distraction had no effect on levels of pain

Superior: WNL

Inferior: WNL

Posterior: WNL

Palpation: Vague, non-specific tenderness over left deltoid. No trigger points or myofascial abnormalities noted in muscle belly. Mild tenderness over deltoid tuberosity, supraspinatus tendon, and long head of biceps tendon, but none of those structures reproduced or reduced the patient's symptoms when palpated. No abnormalities noted in supraspinatus, infraspinatus, or upper trapezius muscles. Scalenes tight bilaterally. First rib did not appear displaced.

Neurological: Biceps, Triceps and Brachioradialis reflexes 2 plus bilaterally. Upper Limb Tension Tests negative. Hoffman's Test negative. Babinski Test negative.

Special Tests: Hawkin's-Kennedy test negative. Speed's test negative. Allen's test and Roos tests negative. Drop arm and Empty Can tests negative. Apply's Scratch Test negative.

Joint Integrity: Coracoacromial joint intact. Coracoclavicular joint intact. Sternoclavicular joint intact.

Scapulothoracic Rhythm: Smooth and unremarkable

Balance: Unable to test Romberg or sharpened Romberg position, due to patient's refusal to stand

Nerological: Patient reports no numbness, tingling or radiating symptoms down arm or into hand.

Vestibular: No tinnitus or disequilibrium.

**Hypotheses: From the list below, choose the condition that best explains Lauren's shoulder pain.**

Labral Tear (SLAP lesion)

Pica-Related Hemotophagy

Biceps tendon rupture

Hypertrichosis

Adhesive Capsulitis

Lycanthropy

Impingement Syndrome

Androgen Insensitivity Syndrome

Rotator Cuff tear

Singultus

Acromioclavicular subluxation

Coprolalia

Ruptured spleen

Gerontophilia

Burst Fracture of the head of the humerus

Methyltheobromine dependence

Traumatic arthritis

Elevated Human Chorionic Gonadotropin levels

Brachioplexus injury

Vandellia cirrhosa attack

Ulnar Nerve Entrapment

Myocardial Dysfunction

Deltoid strain

Upper Motor Neuron Lesion due to subdural hematoma over left parietal lobe

Arsenic Poisoning.


	9. Carlisle Treats Athletic Injuries

_Author's Note: _

_Congrats to bobbers2004, Livvy, EmmaLemma, DangerouslyImpulsive, Lariren-Shadow, ros89, undercoverleech, Framboesinha, Cendrillon, Emmohdee, TrueLovesKiss, CBRH, Merlyn, LaBellaBella, and nefariousidiot for astutely solving my differential diagnosis problem! You were all correct in your reasoning that Lauren heard "curse sign" when Edward was saying "Kehr's sign," which is referred pain to the left shoulder due to the spleen's lack of nocioceptors. Congrats also to the readers who took the time to look up the even numbered conditions and realized that they were all silly conditions like "hiccups" or "spontaneous swearing" and actually got the joke._

_For the record, no one has been able to solve the vector problem in chapter three. In fact…I have no idea how to solve the vector problem. I got a C in undergraduate trig based Physics. I knew just enough Physics to set the darn thing up, not enough to solve it. I've been thinking of taking it to one of the university's TA's and paying them to solve it. I have a cousin-in-law who is majoring in Physics, but am at a loss of how to explain to him exactly WHY I would need him to solve it for me. "Um...so I'm writing this vampire story..."_

_This chapter had three false starts, each over two thousand words, all of which were utter failures in writing. The problem, for me, with writing from the perspective of a person in the medical profession, is that I kept trying to throw in every funny experience I've ever had at work. In the process, I introduced about 27 new characters that no one actually cared about and, in detail, covered Carlisle's performance of a total hip replacement surgery that was utterly irrelevant to the plot. Frustrated, I shelved the story and wrote a four-chapter comedy piece called "Brotherhood," with my friend blondieAKArobin. _

_The plot for this came to me in whole, as I was donating blood over my lunch break one day. In my woozy lightheaded state, I started imagining how Emmett would respond to a blood drive, and was very amused by it. _

_Thanks a million to blondieAKArobin for all her help getting Edward and Carlisle "in character." She's a fantastic beta and a great friend._

**Carlisle Treats Athletic Injuries**

Rosalie and I sat cross-legged on the thin industrial-grey carpet of my small hospital office, gingerly sorting through a pile of resumes that threatened to topple like a stack of Jenga blocks. I pulled one off the top, careful to avoid an avalanche, and skimmed the first page.

**Name: Al V. Olee**

**Purpose: To obtain a five-year surgical residency at a small community hospital under an attending physician with an excellent reputation in cardiothoracic sugary.**

**Education: Valedictorian at the University of Michigan, BS in Biomedical Sciences, 2000. Graduated from John Hopkin's MD program in May of 2004. Internship in Cardiothoracic Sugary at St. Germain's Hospital.**

**Research Project: The effectiveness of the ICF model in predicting outcomes and prognosis in patients with migrainous vertigo: a retrospective study. **

With a sigh, I tossed the entire application into the "rejected" pile, growling with discontent. A hibernating grizzly woken by the sound of Emmett loudly singing You Are My Sunshine would have been less annoyed. "Cardiothoracic sugary?" I muttered in disbelief.

"Another typo?" Rosalie asked, wickedly amused.

"This applicant has gone to college for eight years to specialize in sugary," I said, in a disgusted voice. "Sugary! As in 'sugary doughnuts.'"

"Too bad there aren't any Krispy Kreme shops near Forks—we could forward them his application." Rosalie laughed disdainfully, tossing her shimmering hair over her shoulder. "Look on the bright side: at least it's better than this one." Her gold eyes sparkled behind their long black lashes as she held a stapled document up. "This applicant's special talents include 'good manners in bed.' I hope she meant to say 'good bedside manners,' otherwise she must have misread the job description. How dim-witted."

"What's so hard about making sure that your spelling, grammar, and punctuation are in order before you lick your stamp? Or that your materials look professional?" I complained, making a face at a resume that was printed on fluorescent green Kermit the Frog stationary before tossing it aside. "Seriously? Do they think this will honestly get my attention in a positive way?"

My blonde daughter was diligently helping me to pick out twenty lucky candidates (out of the whopping hundred and eighty six applicants) whom I would interview for the five positions that I had open for surgical residents. I'd been back from the big hospital in "L.A." for a total of two weeks, and already the line was forming—apparently news traveled fast in the land of rain and muck.

It wasn't surprising, really. Although I tried to keep a low profile, my reputation as a surgeon paralleled my reputation as a mentor and instructor. Within hours of my calls to Washington State University and Howard University (the two medical schools affiliated with Forks Community Hospital) notifying them that I needed residents, word traveled throughout the medical community on a national level. Within two days, the mail started pouring in, each candidate more qualified (or more numbskulled) than the last. It was a bit overwhelming. Even with my speed-reading abilities, choosing the best of them wasn't easy.

Fortunately, Rosalie had graduated Magna Cum Laude from Columbia University's MD program and knew enough about the health professions to know what to look for in a developing surgeon. I loved having Rosalie at the hospital with me. I'd learned long ago that beneath her hard and oftentimes callous exterior lay a very different sort of person; one who was compassionate and very much in touch with her human side. Though it often intimidated those around her, her stubborn and tenacious attitude was valuable when it came to saving lives. Only when exposed to those who were in desperate need did that caring persona surface. Like Edward, she had a natural drive to help the helpless (which was her reasoning behind going to medical school in the first place), but unlike Edward, she handled her thirst in the hospital environment well enough that she actually completed her medical school internship and residency without even coming close to killing anyone. She'd been well on the path to becoming an excellent doctor when a mandatory rotation in the neo-natal unit broke her heart and stopped her medical profession in its tracks. Nevertheless, she often proved a valuable asset to my medical profession, and was constantly perusing journal articles, keeping me in the loop on all the latest procedures.

The hospital had not done well in my absence. My reputation as a surgeon had previously brought in patients from far and wide, even from out of state, for elective procedures as simple as rotator cuff repairs and lumbar laminectomies. During my previous employment at the hospital, one operating room was exclusively mine, to do scheduled surgeries in. The other OR was for the rest of the surgeons to use in the cases of emergency operations (which, to be honest, were a rarity in Forks). Since my departure, the flux of voluntary operations had come to a violent halt, costing the hospital millions of dollars in revenue, as not only one, but two ORs went unused for days on end. To make matters worse, shortly after my departure, three of hospital's best attending physicians were offered teaching jobs at a medical school in Grenada. When told that they could make more money drinking Pina Coladas on the beach every evening, they left the cloudy land of Seasonal Affective Disorder faster than you could say "Vitamin D." With the loss of half of their doctors, the hospital's finances were going down the tubes. My decision to move back to Washington had been the cause of much rejoicing: it saved the HR department from having pink-slip fifty employees.

_Knock-knock_. The sound at my office's door brought me out of my reverie.

"Come in," Rosalie called softly.

The door burst open and an enormous vampire flounced in. He was wearing a faded red baseball cap, a goofy grin, and a black tee-shirt that appeared to be eight sizes to small.

"Hi Emmett," I said, smiling at my boisterous ox of son. "What are you doing up here?"

"I came to deliver a message to Rosalie from…me!" he said broadly. She looked up, pleased to see him, but perplexed at his unannounced arrival. He cleared his throat. "The message is this: I love my wife! I love her! So much, in fact, that I had to bring her something special so she could remember just how much!" He thrust a bundle of obnoxiously neon orange and pink long-stemmed Gerber Daisies at her. The blinding, clashing colors glared up at her. She pressed her lips together and took them.

"Um, thanks honey," she said, bemused. Her expression plainly said _my husband is ridiculous. Cute, but ridiculous. I'm a sucker for cute and ridiculous._ "That was really thoughtful. What's the occasion?"

"Occasion? Bah. I don't need no occasion." He waved his hand, his eyes twinkling. "I missed you, I missed you, so I came to kiss you!" With that, he puckered up and planted a big, wet smooch smack dab on her mouth, unapologetically wrapping her into a crushing embrace. She pulled away after a few minutes, giggling. It was then that I noticed that his that his tiny black t-shirt had the words "I Love My Phlebotomist" emblazoned across the front.

"Emmett," I said incredulously, suppressing a grin. "Where on earth did you get that shirt?"

"From the Red Cross volunteers in the front lobby," he said proudly. He turned around, displaying the back of the shirt, which said "Give Blood, Save Lives" on it, followed by the Red Cross logo. "They were selling them to raise money and awareness for hemophilia, so I donated five hundred bucks. Unfortunately, they were out of every size but small."

"Try not to breathe," I muttered. "You might bust out of it like the Hulk." But I had to smile, despite myself.

"The Red Cross people were also trying to encourage everyone to go to the third floor and donate…they're doing a blood drive today," he said.

"How did you get out of that? Did you tell them that you were afraid of needles?" Rosalie asked slyly.

"Of course not!" he scoffed. He gave her a very serious look. "I have an ironclad excuse not to donate: I spent the majority of last summer in West Africa, hunting hyenas with you. I very well could be infected with West Nile. Also, we had a layover in London, where we 'ate' 'beef.' We're potential carriers of Mad Cow Disease. It wouldn't be very conscientious of me if I went around contaminating the masses with prions now, would it?"

"Not very conscientious at all," I agreed wholeheartedly, with a completely straight face.

Rosalie smirked. "I take that you managed to resist the temptation of the bag-o-blood buffet this time?" She arched one perfect eyebrow. "It wasn't that long ago that you and Jasper raided the University of Portland's blood drive, pretending to be candy stripers."

Emmett took her hands and leaned in, touching the tip of his nose to hers. "No candy striping today, hun. These good-looking eyes are still gold." And indeed they were. He grinned brightly, his dimples deepening. Rosalie practically melted.

At that moment, my cell phone rang. I glanced at the caller ID. Edward.

"Hello?" I said, flipping it open.

_"Bzzzzz hssssshe isssaaaaaaa pssssss."_

I frowned. "Edward…I can't hear you at all. Speak up."

_"Bzzzz hsssshe isssssaaaa psssssss."_

"That was no better. One of us must be in a dead zone."

"Don't you mean undead zone," Emmett said in a knowing voice, wagging a finger. "We're only mostly dead, you know. Mostly dead means slightly alive." Rosalie rolled her eyes. I put my finger to my lips, silently telling him to shut his yap.

_"Bzzz hsssssshe issssaaaaa pssssss,_" Edward said, this time more urgently. I ignored Emmett and walked over to the window, scrunching as close to the glass as I could get.

"This should be a little better," I said. "The equipment in this building causes a lot of interference. I can never get a clear signal in here."

"Can you hear me now?" Edward asked.

"Yes, but you'll have to speak clearly and slow down. There's lots of static. What's up?"

"Erm…" he paused awkwardly. The next sentence came out in a rush. "There's been an accident at school and it was our fault."

I took a deep, although unnecessary breath, trying to remain calm. "Please tell me this wasn't in gym again."

There was an uncomfortable silence at the other end of the line.

"Well?" I implored.

"So Alice and I are in gym right now…" he began. I sighed.

"What is it this time?" I asked, dreading what was coming. "Another broken windshield? Spraining people's ankles on purpose to get them to go to the prom together?"

Edward hesitated, and then spoke sheepishly. "Contact lenses."

"Come again?"

"You know how that representative from Acuvue came to the hospital with samples of colored contacts last week? The day we were up to get Jessica's ankle checked out?"

"Uh…yes…"

"Well, during all the ballroom dancing stuff that was going on that day, I caught Jessica thinking about how weird and creepy Alice's eyes were. I got a little paranoid and started wishing there was something I could do to look more human. When the rep offered me a thirty-day trial of disposable lenses, it seemed like a great idea. I figured that, for the sake of blending in better, I'd should at least try the contacts…I mean, they were free and all."

"Edward! We're billionaires. Why would you try something like that just because it was free?"

"Because they actually look peculiarly nice. I tried the blue ones. When you put blue contacts over yellow eyes, they turn green. They're almost back to the color they were when I was human. I think Bella likes them. She even said they was sexy." I clenched my teeth, squeezing my eyes shut.

"What does any of this have to do with the accident?"

"I'm getting there, Carlisle. Do you remember Lauren Mallory, from when you taught sex-ed last year?"

"The blonde girl who thought she was pregnant and was worried about ruining her figure?"

"Yes! That's the one."

"What about her?"

"Today she somehow got it into her messed up head that I was in love with her, as absurd as that sounds. The girl is utterly delusional."

"This has to do with your contact lenses how?"

"You see, the lenses were the culprit of this whole incident. Acuvue's contacts are hydrophilic and the pH of my venomous tears must have been incompatible with them, because my eyes have been dreadfully irritated all day long. Absurdly itchy, in fact. Long story short, Lauren thought that I was winking at her when all I was trying to do was to adjust one of my contacts. She jumped to the conclusion that I was flirting with her! She then decided that the best course of getting me to go out with her would be to literally take out her competition by whacking poor Bella in the knee with her hockey stick."

"So Bella's hurt again?" I said with a sigh. "Does she need treatment?" The girl's already thick file had tripled in size over the course of our absence. Stupid reckless motorcycle rider…

"Relax dad. Bella's fine. It's Lauren who's not. Alice saw that the blow would result in a torn ACL, MCL, and lateral meniscus, which would put Bella in crutches for months. She went all avenging angel and rammed into Lauren from the side. I think she ruptured Lauren's spleen."

I gasped. "Edward! A ruptured spleen is serious!"

"I know! Why do you think I'm calling you?"

"Has the gym teacher checked her out?"

"He examined her and found eleven out of ten pain in her shoulder that was diffuse and hard to locate. That by itself is a red flag...only referred pain from viscera presents that way. It was not affected by motion or resisted strength tests, and the MOI was a blow to her left side, bruising her eleventh and twelfth ribs. I saw the bruising because she was wearing this ridiculous crop top. I was reading her thoughts, and nowhere in them did she describe her pain as dull, achy, sharp, shooting, throbbing, or in any other terms that would indicate that her injury was musculoskeletal, nervous, or vascular in origin."

"Edward, if her spleen is ruptured, she needs surgery now. But I don't want any false alarms. This isn't the first time you and Alice have injured humans in gym class and it probably won't be the last. I know you feel bad about the New Jersey rugby incident of nineteen seventy-four, but you can't let that make you live in fear for the rest of your life. Are you sure it's her spleen?"

"Yes! I'm certain! The Kehr's sign is positive."

"Has Alice had any visions that would indicate how this is going to turn out?"

"Not yet, but I don't need Alice to check the prognosis. I'm a hundred percent certain my diagnosis is correct. She requires medical attention quickly, or she may die." Something about the urgency in Edward's voice made me trust his judgment.

"What can I do?" I asked quickly.

"Go ahead and book the OR, Dad, and send an ambulance immediately." Emmett, who had heard every word of the conversation, was already on the phone with the paramedics, and I could hear the sirens blaring as they left the hospital, and the dispatchers announcing the incoming emergency over the ER loudspeakers. Off in the distance, I heard the sound of nurses scrambling to prep a treatment room.

"Consider it done. But Edward…it's been decades since you went to medical school. Are you certain it's not just her supraspinatus or something?"

"Yes. I'm positive."

"How come Coach Clapp didn't call 911?"

"The gym teacher is an imbecile," he said darkly. "Please hurry. I don't want another murder to be on our hands."

"I'll see you soon," I said. I snapped my phone shut and ran out of the office, leaving Emmett and Rosalie behind.

I got to the ambulance bay just as the paramedics were arriving, a yellow gown covering my clothing, hands gloved. The rubber of the ambulance tires squealed on the asphalt, and the flashing lights blinded me momentarily. The doors opened, and Alice and Edward hopped out, followed by the medics, who were transferring the backboard onto the gurney. Lauren lay unconscious, breathing from a portable tank of O2. There was extensive bruising around her belly. I felt her abdomen and found it to be rigid. Not good.

"Report," I said, nodding to the paramedics, as we wheeled Lauren to the ER. They recited a medical history back to me that was virtually identical to what Edward told me on the phone, minus the bits about mind-reading and contact lenses. They informed me that they'd called the girl's parents, but couldn't reach them, and that half of the gym class would probably be in the waiting room soon. Edward and Alice ran alongside me and I began questioning them in swift, high tones, inaudible to the humans. We made no eye contact, and to the casual observer, it would have appeared that I was simply praying for my patient under my breath (which wasn't all that unusual for me).

"Alice…what's the prognosis?" I asked.

"Bad. Very bad."

"Will she die if we don't operate?"

"Undoubtedly."

"What will happen if I do a splenectomy?"

"Your two surgical techs and nurses do not have the expertise necessary to tie the splenogastric arteries while you remove the spleen. She'll bleed to death." I looked at her, impressed.

"Since when have you been fluent in medical terminology?" I asked, wondering if she'd been spending her recent nighttime hours watching old DVDs of _ER_, back when George Clooney was still on the show and it was still worth viewing.

"I just saw a vision of her death certificate, that's all."

"Ah. Well, what will happen if I recruit Dr. Snow and her team to help?" I asked.

Alice closed her eyes. "Dr. Snow's water just broke. Her two residents are delivering her baby, and her five interns are observing, since they need to watch a live birth to fulfill their educational requirements."

_Fabulous. Just what this hospital needs during a physician shortage: a maternity leave_, I thought. I looked at Alice. "What will happen if I recruit a resident from another surgeon to scrub it?"

"None available. Two are scrubbing in on a CABG, and the other three are with patients, doing consults." I clenched my fist, wishing I could move to Grenada.

We arrived at the ER, where the paramedics transferred Lauren onto a treatment table. My nurses busied around me, attaching the girl to bags of saline and vasoconstrictors. I asked one of them to hand me a syringe with a four inch needle, which she promptly did. I jabbed the tip through Lauren's linea alba, one inch above her umbilicus, and pressed through until I felt a sudden decrease in tissue resistance. I pulled back on the syringe, drawing fluid from her abdominal cavity.

Blood.

Though the red fluid was inside the syringe, I heard Edward and Alice immediately stop breathing. I glanced over and saw that both of them had strained expressions.

"She's bleeding internally," I told the head nurse. "There's no time for a CT to confirm the provisional diagnosis. We'll have to operate immediately. She'll need a blood transfusions and the fluid in her abdomen will need to be drained to keep the increased pressure from damaging her other organs. "

"Prepare to transfer to the OR," she told the other nurses. I bolted into the hall, beckoning for Alice and Edward to follow me. Once in a quiet corner, out of earshot of the nurses, I looked intensely at both of them.

"Are there any surgeries that I could perform that would save her life?" I asked.

"No. She'll die no matter what you do," Alice said. I looked deep into her eyes, troubled, then looked at Edward.

_Is she a good person?_ I thought at him.

His fake green eyes crinkled at the corners, confused, and I could tell that he was probing my mind, trying to get to the intention behind the question. "No, Carlisle. She's not. She's selfish and betrays her closest friends on a whim. She cheats, she lies, and she's altogether loyal to no one." His glance grew wary. "Why do you ask?"

_Has she put her faith in God?_

Edward gave me a cynical, disparaging look. "You know I don't believe in all that grace stuff," he muttered darkly. "Sin demands atonement…restitution, and no one can make things right but the sinner himself."

_Love covers a multitude of evils. Only by grace…_

"Grace!" Edward's expression grew troubled. "Letting people who do wrong off the hook, just because they say a prayer? How is that fair, Carlisle?"

"I'm not asking whether you believe. I want to know if she does." Edward was silent for a moment, pondering my statement.

"No," he said finally, still frowning. "She does not believe." My heart sank and my thoughts raced desperately.

My struggle with my faith had begun early on, when I was the teenage son of a zealous preacher whose quest to rid the world of witches, werewolves, and vampires was propelled more by a fear of the unknown than by love of his God. How could hateful behavior that sought out death and destruction be something that I was supposed to admire? Years later, when I became a doctor, a whole new set of issues came my way, as I faced the problem of pain and suffering—finding it hard to believe that God was good when I was telling the eighteen year old victim of a drunk driver that he will never walk again, or explaining to the loving mother of three young children that her breast cancer is terminal. I'd seen family members pray for my patients to be divinely healed hundred of times, and I'd watched them die regardless. I'd seen the lives of newborn babies snuffed out like the light of a candle, minutes after their births, and watched their mother cry out in anguish. It seemed so senseless, so meaningless.

Yet, despite all this, I could not deny the existence of God nor his hand on my life. Each time, in over three hundred years, that I'd tried to turn my back on him, I found nowhere else to go. As so many saw our undead existence as damnation, I found in it my higher purpose, a unique gift from God to improve this world I inhabited. With such purpose came an equally high temptation to stray, but through His grace I'd found the strength to fight the lure of evil, the lure of the blood all around me. So many times I'd argued with Edward over God's grace and forgiveness, unable to convince him that there could be more for him, and that he was anything but damned. I lived each day hoping and praying that I would hear "Well done, my good and faithful servant; in you I am well pleased." If only all my children could join me in that belief, and understand that to whom much is given, much is required.

If salvation through grace was possible for me, it was possible for this poor, wretched girl before me. But would she die before she had the opportunity to accept it? Prior to this afternoon, she had the entire rest of her life to repent—plenty of time to change. If she died right now how, she would be damned, and my family would be partially to blame.

"I've seen her mind; she deserves to be damned," Edward said indifferently, in response to my thoughts. I looked at him sharply.

"So do you, and so do I," I said quietly. "But we are not gods. It is not up to us to decide who deserves to die." Edward fell silent.

"What she deserves doesn't matter," said Alice said in a practical voice, cutting through the theological musings. "She's out of time."

"There's no way to buy her more time then?" I asked despondently.

"Well, there is one way," Alice said, in a knowing tone.

"But you won't like it," Edward said, reading her mind.

"Well?"

"You could always change her," Alice said.

I frowned. "You're right; I don't like it."

"You're not the only one," Edward muttered. I gave him a sideways glance.

"Even so, it is worth considering, if it's the only way to save her." He knew that I was referring to more than just physically.

"She'll be a very...er...colorful addition to our family," Alice said. "She'll certainly keep us on our toes. I will make life very interesting."

"If by'interesting' you mean 'a walking nightmare'," Edward said, giving Alice a look that said _you can't be serious._

"But think of it! Two new sisters in one year!" Alice countered brightly. "The girls will outnumber the guys for once and two of them will be newborns! You know what that means?"

"That we'll have our hands full trying to prevent a massacre," Edward muttered.

"Yeah, that too, but more importantly, two of the girls in our family will be stronger than Emmett! How fun. It will totally tip things in our favor in guys versus girls tug-of-war."

"But we already have a self-absorbed, shallow, pigheaded, perpetually eighteen-year-old blonde in our family," Edward said, scowling. "Do we really need another one?"

"Edward!" I said, shocked.

"Look on the bright side," Alice countered. "I mean…if anything ever happens to Rosalie, we'll have a spare."

"This is no time for joking!" I said fiercely. "Her soul hangs in the balance!"

Edward shrugged. Apparently, now that her death looked certain, he wasn't about to mourn. "She's chosen her own path."

"But we hold the power to allow her to turn from it!" We stared at each other defiantly.

"You don't want to change her, Carlisle," Edward said, with a voice that held the softness and firmness of velvet covered brick. "I can see it in your mind. Your very being recoils from having to make that sort of choice again. Do you really want another Rosalie on your conscience?" My unbeating heart sank. Changing Edward had been a reasonably good decision, and changing Esme had been the best decision I'd ever made. But Rosalie resented the undead life, and if I could go back, I'm not sure if I would have done such a thing against her will. Could this new daughter conform to our self-sacrificing ways or would she become another mad terror like Victoria? Could saving this one life cost dozens of others? The hallway whizzed around us, and though there was noise all around us, the world seemed to tunnel in, as though we were the only people in existence. The sound of Lauren's heart thudded at me from the other wing of the hospital, its importance holding my attention over all other sounds.

_Lubb-dubb. Lubb-dubb. Lubb-dubb. _I could her that her diastolic blood pressure was getting dangerously low. Her time was running short.

_Lubb-dubb. Lubb-dubb. Lubb-dubb_. I imagined her mother and father standing over her grave, tears in their eyes, wondering if the doctor had told the truth when he said "We did everything we could."

_Lubb-dubb. Lubb-dubb. Lubb-dubb_. I began to pray, as off in the distance I heard the gurney push its way through heavy doors with the circular windows. _Heavenly Father, please give us another way. Make a way where there is no way_, I prayed.

At that moment, Alice's eyes unfocused. For a split second, she stopped walking, as though she was having an absence seizure. Edward drew in a sharp breath.

"Alice…what do you see?" I asked. "Is there another choice?"

"Yes," she whispered, her gold eyes meeting mine, filled with awe.

"But that can't be right." Edward said shakily.

"It will work...she will live. Better than that…when it's all over, she'll live differently," Alice breathed.

"But I can't do that!" Edward cried angrily. "I've never done anything like that before."

"But you can do it. I've seen the outcomes, and if you do it, she'll live."

I interrupted, my voice patient, despite my frustration. "I know you're both omniscient and all, but you've left me in the dark. Would you be so kind as to explain what you both see?" The two of them communicated so intimately that they sometimes forgot that no one else could hear their private conversations.

"There's a way to save her without changing her," Alice said simply.

"How?" I asked.

"If Edward participates in the surgery, he can suture the broken vessels while you remove her spleen," she said happily.

"But I've never performed surgery before!" Edward protested. "All that blood? Are you crazy? I don't have that sort of self control."

"You've spent how long resisting la tua catante with more success than anyone in vampire history and what you're worried about now is your self control?" Alice asked, in polite tone, subtly laced with mocking irony.

Edward's perfect face was anxious. "I resist Bella because I love her. I have no such attachment to this girl. How can I know that I won't slip up?"

"Because I've seen it," Alice said, with a sense of finality.

"Your visions aren't perfect," Edward retorted, and Alice stuck her tongue out at him.

"That's correct, son, but really, what do we have to lose?" I pleaded. "If you fail, she dies. If we do nothing, she dies. But if you succeed, she'll live. It really is our best chance."

"But…" Edward's green eyes darted back and forth as he tried to think of a way out of this. "Don't you think that you'd rather have Rosalie scrub in than me? I mean…she went to medical school too."

"If Rosalie does the surgery, she'll die," Alice replied. She then glanced up, giving her statement another thought. "Well, I see nine possible futures in which Rosalie does the surgery and she dies. I see one in which she lives, but Rosalie 'accidentally' removes her uterus as well as her spleen."

"That's good enough for me," Edward said eagerly. "The girl should never be allowed to reproduce anyways. That's probably the best way to go."

"Don't be ridiculous," Alice said, rolling her eyes. "You know it has to be you."

"But…"

"Don't argue. Go scrub up," I commanded. "And take those idiotic contacts out if they're irritating your eyes. I want your vision to be perfect in there." For a moment, he looked like he was going to protest. "Now," I said quietly, with a tone of calm assertion. "Go." He clenched his jaw, gave me a funny look, and then ran to the surgical locker room.

­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­

Fifteen minutes later, my bescrubbed team was assembled under the glare of the overhead lights in the spotless, ugly, green-tiled room. The blue paper sheets of the sterile field were draped over my patient; her abdomen was swathed with betadine, and the anesthesiologist had Lauren's vitals under control. Her left arm had been draped over her right shoulder, to get it out of the way, a bolster under her left hip and ribcage to tilt into a semi-sidelying position.

"I'm ready Carlisle," a low, satiny voice whispered behind me. I moved a foot to the left, and Edward slid against the operating table, quite close to me. I felt a stab of guilt for what I was putting my son through.

Many people are under the impression that the draw and desire that vampires feel for human blood is akin to the draw a human might feel towards chocolate cheesecake or perhaps a potential mate whom they are lusting after. This is, of course, entirely wrong. When exposed to flowing blood, the burning pain that a vampire feels in his throat is as painful as a third degree burn. The blistering, feverish discomfort cries out to be quenched. To one unaccustomed to resisting, it is utter torment.

I'd spent three hundred years constantly around human blood, and it hardly affected me any longer. Sure, the fragrance was mouthwatering, but it didn't drive me mad. Edward, however, up until a year ago, was unable to bear it. It was the reason he never pursued a career in medicine, even though he had a strong desire to help people and openly emulated my profession. I knew that simply being around Bella had helped to desensitize him (he was able to resist devouring Tyler Crowley a year earlier when he was bleeding in this very hospital because, as he told me later, "his blood had nothing on Bella's"). Yet…his exposure to flowing human blood other than hers had been terribly limited. Was I causing him unnecessary pain?

Edward knew how to do surgery…in a strictly textbook fashion. His knowledge of anatomy was impeccable. His hand was steady. I had confidence that he could do the procedure. But how he would respond to it was another thing all together.

_Please God…help my son. Give him strength. _

I greeted my surgical staff, introduced Edward as a resident from another hospital that was scrubbing in (they didn't recognize him behind his goggles and mask) and asked them to call him Dr. Olson.

_Thud-thud. Thud-thud. Thud-thud._

I glanced at Lauren's monitors. Heart rhythm normal. SpO2 98. Sixty beats per minute. A nasogastric tube was inserted and a large gague IV was dripping ketadine into her right brachial artery. I asked the nurse who was recording the procedure to begin taking dictation.

_Thud-thud. Thud-thud. Thud-thud._

"Splitting the rectus abdominis vertically, one centimeter left of midline," I said, as I made the first incision through the plastic of the sterile field. I sliced down, from her xiphoid process to the level of her umbilicus. Blood began to well, filling the OR with its delicious aroma. Automatically, my vision sharpened, my hearing became more sensitive, and I felt more alert. The hunter impulse had, long ago for me, turned into an asset. Edward, on the other hand, was no longer breathing.

"Suction," I said, nodding to my tech. She began collecting the blood for autotransfusion. Once enough blood was out of the way, my surgical nurse used a set of spreader bars to let us see what was left of Lauren's spleen.

It was bad. The entire structure was ripped along its peduncle, and its smooth lateral surface was swollen and damaged, obviously torn. One of the small splenogastric arteries was completely severed.

Edward immediately reached in and clasped the peduncle in his left hand, stopping the flow from the splenic artery.

"May we continue?" I asked the anesthesiologist, checking the monitors for change in blood pressure. He nodded. Edward then used his right hand to push her stomach and colon out of the way.

"Blunt scissors," I said. My tech handed me a pair. As I cut a hole in the splenogastric ligament, Edward proceeded to ligate the peduncle. Once his left hand was free, he cut through the peritoneum and passed a hemostat below it.

"Dr. Olson, please clamp, sever, and tie the splenogastric arteries," I said, handing Edward a set of forceps. "Avoid the stomach wall." Edward nodded, still not breathing, and proceeded to do as I'd requested. "Time to remove the spleen," I said to my techs. The first handed me a set of surgical scissors. I reached past Edward, rotated the organ, cut the ligaments that connected it to the left kidney and large intestine.

"Are those sutures completed Dr. Olson?" I asked. Edward nodded. "Good. As soon as I cut this away from the pancreas, I need you to begin suturing the vessels. Understood?"

"Aye."

"Excellent. Removing the spleen." I made the final cut and plopped the organ into a metal pan that a nurse was holding out for me.

"SCORE!!" came a muffled soprano voice cried from above. Muffled to Edward and I, that is, but entirely inaudible to anyone else in the room. Soundproof glass. Almost. I glanced up.

Emmett and Alice were in the viewing galley up above. The first was groaning in defeat, while the later was doing a victory dance. I watched as a wad of cash passed from Emmett's hands to Alice's.

"I knew he could do it! I knew he could do it!" Alice said smugly. Emmett sulked and slumped in the bleachers. Alice poked him in the shoulder. "In fact, I_ told_ you he could do it. I told you I _saw_ him do it. But did you believe me? Noooooo."

"Your visions aren't perfect!" Emmett said.

"Pretty close, though," Alice argued.

"When will I learn that betting against you is stupid?" Emmett grumbled.

"Christmas Day, 2064," Alice replied. Emmett swore violently. I tilted my head and directed my thoughts to Edward.

_How long have massive monkey and mini monkey been hanging around up there_? Edward rolled his eyes.

"Since the very beginning. Emmett thought watching me devour Lauren would be highly entertaining and was convinced that I couldn't make it. Alice saw that I could do it and saw it as a chance to make a quick buck." His voice was too high and quick for the nurses to hear.

_But our family shares one giant checking account!_

"True, but entirely beside the point," Edward said. "It's the _shame_ associated with handing that much cash over that really matters." I sighed.

_Don't they know that the viewing galley is for licensed physicians only?_

"Yep."

_They don't care, do they?_

"Nope."

"Fantastic," I muttered under my breath, turning my attention back to the surgery. Edward had already finished suturing the splenic artery shut and was quickly doing what no human would have been able to do: he was actually tying off the dozens of tiny, impossible to find diaphragmatic arteries, the ones that we usually just cauterized. _Why are you doing that?_ I asked silently.

"Any time you cauterize tissue, you carry a risk of burning the surrounding viable tissue," Edward said mildly. "By tying them off, I minimize risk to the patient. If I am going to do this, I'm going to do it right."

The rest of the operation went by with textbook perfection. We sopped up the remainder of the blood with sterile sponges. My nurse released the clamps, and we sutured her abdomen up. I was careful to align the tissue to leave minimal scarring. I finished dictating the remainder of the surgery, and that was that.

"Excellent job team," I said to my techs and nurses, who were clearing the area, taking off the blue drapes, and readying my patients for transfer to a private room in the post-surgical unit. The anesthesiologist was weaning her medications and I could tell that within forty-five minutes, she would be groggily awaking and asking for morphine. "Can everyone give a round of applause to Dr. Olson, and thank him for filling in?" a smattering of thanks filled the room and Edward uncomfortably waved.

"I'm going to…er…go get cleaned up," he said. His tone was thoughtful.

"I'll join you." We discarded our gloves, masks, goggles, head coverings, shoe booties, and made our way to the surgical locker room. Edward couldn't get out of the bloody clothes quickly enough. He stripped the blue v-neck from his sculpted marble form faster than you could say _pica-related hematophagy. _He tossed the scrubs in the laundry bin, and we jumped in adjacent showers, careful to wash away any trace of the red fluid…for Jasper's sake. It was past four by this time, and my shift was ending. I knew we'd be headed back to the mansion soon. When we were back in our street clothes, we exited together. I smiled at Edward.

"I always knew this day would come. You just performed surgery. Do you feel like a real doctor now?" Edward gave me a crooked grin, his eyes (which were now thankfully back to their normal gold color) sparkling.

"It was…tolerable," he said, with a sense of self-satisfaction. "Far more bearable than I would have ever believed, though holding my breath for that long was becoming quite uncomfortable."

"So are you going to pursue a career in surgery, now that we know that you can do it?" He gave a short laugh.

"I know that I can drink some of Bella's blood but then stop. That doesn't mean I'm going to make a habit out of it. Sorry Dad. It's been real. It's been fun. But it hasn't been real fun."

"I can accept that," I said, careful to hide my disappointment. We made our way to the family lounge, where Alice, Emmett, Bella, Rosalie, and about half the student body of Forks High School were sitting. The first four looked somewhat bored (Bella was beginning to adopt the Cullen ways already) while the rest looked anxious. Jessica Stanley ran up to me, accompanied by Eric Yorkie.

"How is she?" Jessica asked, fidgeting nervously.

"Are you a relative?" I asked. Jessica shook her head.

"I'm her best friend." I nodded once, and then glanced at Yorkie.

"You're not a relative either." I was a statement, not a question. He stuck out his chest proudly.

"I'm her boyfriend. We're going to prom together." I nodded a second time.

"Surgery went well. She's going to be just fine. She's going to be transferred to a room on the second floor."

"What was wrong with her?" Jessica asked eagerly, her eyes lighting up for some unknown reason. I shook my head.

"I'm sorry, Miss Stanley, but I'm not allowed to disclose that information. HIPPA laws."

"Oh. Right." Jessica looked disappointed as she slunk back to her chair and began rapidly repeating everything she knew to Mike Newton. I cocked my head at my family motioning for them to follow me. Once we were in the hall, Bella threw her arms around Edward kissing him quickly.

"That was very heroic, what you did to day," she said dreamily. "I'm so proud of you."

"It should have been me," Rosalie muttered, discontented. "Who's the one who actually did their medical school residency? Who's the one who's never drank human blood? Oh…that's me. But did I get asked to scrub in? No…I got to spend the entire afternoon sorting resumes!"

"Minus the half hour you spent with me in the on-call room," Emmett reminded her.

"Sorry sis, but I didn't have any funky visions of you stepping in and saving Lauren's life," Alice said. "Mostly visions of you killing her or spaying her like a cat." Rosalie just grumbled.

"I can't believe you bet against Alice," I said to Emmett, glancing back at him. "She can see the future!"

"Yeah, but, we were dealing with Edward around lotsa blood. The odds still didn't seem good for her."

"You doubt his strength of will?"

"I only know that I wouldn't have been able to succeed," Emmett said, shrugging.

"That's 'cause you're a doofus," Alice replied. It was then that I noticed that Alice was wearing a black t-shirt that looked about eight sizes too large for her. It came down to her knees, and could have been a dress, it she had a belt for it. Blazed across the front, in pink letters were the words

I LOVE BOOBS

"Alice," I said incredulously, with a faint sense of deja vu, "where on earth did you get that t-shirt?"

"From the American Cancer Society volunteers in the cafeteria," she said proudly. "I went and bought it while you and Edward were in the shower. They were selling these to raise money and awareness for breast cancer!" She turned her back to me, and I could see that the pink ribbon symbol shone brightly across the back. She spun back around with a mildly disappointed look on her face. "I donated five hundred bucks. Unfortunately, they were out of my size, so I had to settle for the only size they had left, which was extra-extra large."

"You're swimming in that thing," I laughed. I was glad it was Alice wearing the shirt and not Bella, who probably would have tripped over the hem and required stitches.

"You and Emmett should trade shirts," Bella said to Alice, stating the obvious. Emmett's eyes lit up like a light saber at a Star Wars convention.

"Oh! Can we?" he asked eagerly. "Your shirt is way awesomer than mine!"

"Only if you love boobs more than your phlebotomist," she said in a very serious tone.

"Sweeeet." Faster than any human eye could have seen, the shirts were switched. Edward and Bella were so absorbed in each other that they were utterly ignoring the entire exchange. Emmett began strutting his stuff, trying to catch the reflection of the pink words in the glass of every window we passed on the way out the building.

Rosalie gave a wry smile. "Really sophisticated, Em," she said. He caught her in his arm and kissed her.

"The only boobs I love are yours, babe."


	10. Eric Participates in Throwing Sports

_Author's Note__: I'm back. After reeling in response to the revelations revealed (say that five times fast) in Breaking Dawn, I've picked my jaw off of the floor and am finally able to write fanfiction again. The usual thanks to Marcy and Robin for their beta work. _

_This chapter is dedicated to devadasi7, who's hilarious snark in Twilighted's Breaking Dawn Forum entertains me to no end. This chapter would not exist if it were not for both her prodding and her inspiring rants._

_I am astounded by the sheer volumes of people who like this story and have reviewed it. Thanks so much for your nice comments! It makes my day when people tell me that I made them laugh or cheered up their day somehow._

_Maiden of the Moon suggested that I change the title of this story to something funnier, since she did not feel that "Edward in PE" quite let the potential audience in on how comedic the story itself is. I was flattered enough by her glowing review that I honored her request._

_Added: 8:59 PM EST, August 25 I thought that the POV for this chapter would be obvious...since it's titled "Eric Participates in Throwing Sports" and every chapter title so far has been "Whoever's POV This Chapter is from Plays Whatever Sport This Chapter Is About." But, since two people have reviewed already saying that it took them awhile to figure out who was telling the story...I'm adding this comment in: This chapter is told from Eric Yorkie's perspective._

**Eric Participates in Throwing Sports**

"_Hey? What are friends for?" _Cordelia Chase said offhandedly, shrugging her shoulders.

"_If you ask _me_, they're for knocking you up and leaving you high and dry,"_ an offscreen voice replied dryly. The staff of _Angel Investigations_ looked up, stunned to see a familiar blonde woman bursting through the front door of the Hyperion Hotel, her hand moving tenderly over her bulging abdomen.

Ben Cheney (who was sitting in the green pleather hospital chair next to me) gasped. I chuckled, more entertained by Ben's reaction than by the actual show. I'd seen the series dozens of times and could quote every script, so nothing surprised me any more. Ben however, who was a newbie to this particular fandom, looked like he'd been run over by a cement truck.

"Let me get this straight. Darla…is _pregnant. _With Angel's vampire spawn?" Ben's voice cracked on the word _spawn._

"She sure is!" I said. Ben's almond-shaped eyes widened and he leaped from his seat to point at the TV.

"What in the blazes of _Hellmouth??"_ The spring to his feet would have been dramatic—graceful even—if it hadn't been for one-pound bag of peanut M&M's sitting in his lap. (The candies had originally been purchased as a _get-well-soon_ present for Lauren, but due to her unconsciousness, they had somehow turned into our breakfast.) The yellow bag slid to the floor, causing a _click-click-click-click-click_ sound as a plethora of multicolored ovals erupted from the bag. They bounced and rolled hyperactively as they hit the floor.

"Good one, Cheney." Mike asked in a grouchy voice from his slumped position in his chair. "Did they teach you that move in Kung Fu class?" He wasn't happy about missing his morning jog with Tyler and Connor to visit Lauren, whom he wasn't a huge fan of. Little Ben scowled as he scrambled to scoop up the stray candies from the hospital floor. Once he'd recovered the majority of them, he poured them back into the bag, mixing them with the clean ones, muttering something that sounded vaguely like _"five second rule."_

_MRSA-flavored candy_._ Yech. So much for breakfast._ It didn't matter though; I'd already consumed at least five handfuls and was feeling as jittery as a Jawa from all the sugar. I glanced up at the clock. It was 7:15 AM. Twenty minutes before we'd have to leave to get to school on time.

We'd been here since 5:30 and Lauren still hadn't woken up, even when we'd shaken her and dumped a glass of water on her head. When we asked the nurse why we couldn't rouse her, she informed us that Lauren had gained consciousness the evening before, but she'd kept pushing the PCA button to administer herself more morphine, which had probably knocked her out again. I turned my attention from my new girlfriend back to Ben, whose response to the retarded-yet-brilliant show had turned from shock to denial.

"This episode must have been made as an April Fools day joke," Ben said in a disbelieving voice. "It's impossible that this is the _real _story. Impossible! I mean…isn't Darla dead?"

"Nothing's impossible in the _Buffyverse,_" I said with a shrug.

I'd watched so much of the damn show that I'd gotten used to the fact that the story arcs were absurd… In fact, I'd learned to _embrace_ the series' farcical nature. Ben was still on his first time through though…a _Buffy _virgin, and had much to learn if he was going to become a vampire expert like me. He'd been coming to my house after school every day to watch the boxed DVD sets with me (much to Angela's chagrin) and was utterly hooked. Unfortunately, where we were in the series was three seasons behind where this early morning WB syndicated episode was. As far as Ben knew, Buffy and Angel were still discovering their profound love for each other despite the fact that he was a vampire and she was a human, and to top it all off, they were dealing with the repercussions of her forcing him to drink her blood to save his life. In Ben's mind, Buffy and Angel's love was an unstoppable force of nature. _Too bad he's going to dump her for her own good and leave town in the next episode…_

"But everyone knows that vampires can't have kids!" he cried indignantly. The dawning realization that they _could _apparently ripped the fabric of his universe to pieces.

"Shut up, you whippersnapper-feathered-knot-heads!" shrilled Lauren's roommate, from the other side of the thin curtain that separated the two halves of the room. She was a ninety-two year old woman who'd been diagnosed with dementia, incontinence, and a bad attitude, among other thing.

"I'm sorry!" Ben called.

"I know you're sorry, you boggy-bottomed beetle-brain. I didn't ask for a character reference!" she screamed. Ben ducked his head, as I howled with laughter.

"So about that pregnancy," Ben said, in a quieter voice, ignoring the mirthful tears streaming down my cheeks. Mike rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically. It was moments like this, when Ben and I were talking shop about our love for science fiction and fantasy that Mike Newton usually wanted to crawl into a hole and die. He would have gotten up and walked out if it wasn't for the fact that he was our ride to school.

"No one ever said that vamps _can't _have kids," I explained. "Just because it's never been done before doesn't mean that it's impossible. I mean…look at Angel. Vampires aren't supposed to have souls, and yet, throw in a gypsy curse, and badda-bing, badda-boom, you have a vampire with a soul." Ben was still reeling, trying to wrap his mind around the concept.

"So what's her baby going to be?" he asked in a resigned voice, once he realized that this _wasn't _a joke. "A vampire with _half _a soul? What kind of a creature has _half _a soul? I mean…when it dies, will it _half _go to heaven?" I had to think about it for a minute.

"Um…" this part of the series had always been confusing for even a Wikipedia _Buffy_ article writer like myself. "I think Connor—that's the baby—is human. Well…a superhuman of sorts. He's strong and agile and heals quickly like a vamp…but he doesn't really need to drink blood. Oh…and he has a soul. I guess would make him kinda like a half-vamp. I'm not sure if he's immortal though…"

Ben scrunched his straight, black eyebrows quizzically at me. "A vampire with no soul gets groiny with the vampire _with _a soul and they make super-human half-vamp? What kind of sense is _that _supposed to make?"

I shrugged noncommittally. "Who knows? Pretty far-fetched and wild by my standards, but, hey…whatever Joss Whedon wants to write is fine by me. I think he's a genius. Totally off his rocker…but a genius. I'd be lying if I said I didn't love it. At least it's original." Mike, who was utterly bored—if not needing a psych consult—from listening to our vampire nerd-fest, began amusing himself by tossing peanut M&M's into the air one at a time and catching them in his mouth. One must have gone down the wrong pipe, for he began coughing uncontrollably for a few seconds. Ben paid no notice.

"So this is what we get…is it? Pregnant vampire Darla joins the Scooby Gang? What's next? Are they going to encounter the Loch Ness Monster?"

"Er…Wrong show. The Scooby Gang in on _Buffy. _This is _Angel. _We're in L.A. now. Whole different world."

"I can't believe that you guys watch this crap—the show's ghastly." Mike complained, squinting at the label on the peanut M&M bag where it read WARNING! THIS PRODUCT MAY CONTAIN PEANUTS. Bored, he snatched a crossword puzzle book from old-demented-lady's dresser and began to finish off what she hadn't filled in. She must have fallen back to sleep, for she didn't screech at him.

Ben ignored Mike's rude disinterest and pressed on. "This isn't going to be graphic…is it? It better not be like the birth scene we had to watch in sex-ed with Coach Clapp."

"Definitely not." I cleared my throat, ready to explain what little anatomy I knew. "See, because the baby is humanish and she's a vampire, it's not really compatible with her body. Therefore, she won't be able to deliver it… the _normal_ way."

Ben had to think about that for a second. "So what's Angel going to do? Bite her uterus to get it out?"

"Ew! No! Are you _crazy?_" I stared at him in horror, stunned that he even knew the word _uterus_. The idea was revolting. "As a screenwriter, even Joss Whedon had his limits when it comes to weirdness. What kind of person would want write…much less _watch_ a daddy vampire doing a C-section with his teeth?" I rolled my eyes. "Be realistic here. If I remember correctly, Darla stakes herself through the heart to save it."

"I'm surrounded by dorks," Mike complained, rubbing his face with his hands. "I wish Tyler and Conner had come."

"Why would they?" Ben asked. "Lauren's dated and dumped each of them more than once within the last year."

"Oh," Mike said, looking startled. Unable to think of anything else to say, he returned his crossword puzzle. I was as surprised by Ben's news as Mike. _When did Lauren date Connor and Tyler in the last year? _I wondered. _So much for the Noble Valiant Boys sharing our victories with one another. The last time I knew that she had a boyfriend, she went to prom with Connor…but that was almost a year ago! They broke up right after prom! _I began to have doubts as to my true love's chastity.

"Guys! Look!" Ben said eagerly, turning his mind from vampires for the first time that morning. "I think she's waking up." The three of us rushed to her side. Lauren's eyelids fluttered and she groaned slightly.

"Edward?" she whispered, disoriented.

"Er…no," I said uncomfortably. _Why isn't she asking for me? _"Edward's not here. It's me! Your _boyfriend_."

"Oh! Sorry. Hi Conner," she said in a dreamy voice.

"Er…no. That's Angel's superhuman son," I said patiently. _She must have overheard our conversation._ A confused look crossed her sleepy face.

"Angels don't appear to me," she murmured. "I sleep around too much and have incurred the wrath of God."

"Er…" my face reddened at that statement. _Sleep around? Who does she sleep with? _She and I hadn't even kissed yet! Could it be wishful thinking? My hopes rose.

_It was only yesterday that she asked me to the prom, pretty much sealing our destinies together, making her the beauty that I needed to rescue, in the heroic story of my life as a Noble Valiant Boy._ I backpedaled mentally. Okay…so she didn't ask me to prom. But she almost did. Sort of did. And by "sort of did," I meant that Jessica told me, who heard from Mike, who heard from Lauren herself, that Lauren agreed to go to prom with me after Edward suggested that the six of us go together as a group together to cheer Jessica up, since she was all bummed that she wouldn't be able to dance with her sprained ankle. Same thing. It made Lauren my steady girlfriend, which made us madly in love…right? I squinted at her face, which had drool running down the side of it. _Funny, without all that makeup she usually wears, she's not really all that pretty._ After all those years of fantasizing about falling in love, it was quite anticlimactic now that I actually _was _in love. _So this is love…mm mmm mmm mmmmmmm…so this is love…_

"I only make out with Connor behind Jessica's back to get a thrill out of doing something forbidden," Lauren slurred suddenly. "He's pretty sexy, but all testosterone and no brains." Now it was _my _turn to have my jaw drop. _Connor helped her cheat? So much for being noble and valiant! _

"Um…I don't think Lauren's a _Buffy _fan. I think she's talking about the _real_ Connor…Jessica Stanley's boyfriend. I mean…well…he was. I think it's over now…" Ben said awkwardly.

"It_ is _over," Mike confirmed in a strong voice, protective. "Stupid cheating bastard didn't deserve her. She deserves a real man, who will treat her with dignity and respect. Hmmph." I gave him a funny look. _Were Mike and Jessica back together? That was fast…must have been a "rebound."_

"Who are you?" Lauren asked suddenly, looking up at me with interest. Her eyes were very shiny. "I don't think I know you. You're cute." I scratched my head.

"Do you think she has amnesia?" I asked Ben and Mike. Mike grinned.

"She had a ruptured spleen, not a brain injury, you doofus," he said. His eyes twinkled. "I do believe that she's high though. Some pain medications remove inhibitions. People say all sorts of stuff on them that they regret saying later."

"Nonsense! I feel fine…no regrets. No regrets ever," she murmured, her eyes closing again. She gripped my hand for a second, thoughtfully, before sitting up slightly. "Kiss me, you fool," she blurted out. "My lips are dripping with desire." Her eyes opened, and she looked me right in the eye, though her gaze was a bit unfocused. I blinked twice.

I'd never kissed a girl in my life. Well, I had online once, in _World of Warcraft_…okay, several times in_ Advanced Dungeons and Dragons…_and once in the _Lord of The Rings MMPORPG _(but when that happened I was playing a female elven character, so that one really didn't count). But never in real life. A shock of apprehension washed over me, and my palms felt suddenly cold.

_Am I ready for this? _I wondered. _Your first kiss with someone should be a precious gift…a magical, heroic, epic moment. I don't want to waste the first kiss of my eighteen years on someone who's not going to remember her end of it because she's high…_

Lauren's hand was tugging my face closer. "Kiss me! Now!" her long, acrylic nails tangled in my greasy hair. At once my resolve failed.

_What the heck. It's now or never. Seize the day? Right? _I thought back to my treehouse conversation with Tyler and Mike. _I need a beauty to pursue and fight for! That's why I'm here this blasted early in the morning!_

Taking a deep breath, I leaned down and kissed Lauren lightly on the lips, tenderly stroking her cheek. Drool smeared beneath my fingers.

It was…not what I expected it to be.

_Um…okay…why don't I feel anything? No emotion. No love. No tingles. No rush. It's like I'm kissing my sister. Actually…I take that back. I love my sister. This feels like I'm kissing an inanimate object. There's no chemistry here. I must be broken! _I thought about it for a second, my lips still pressed to hers.

_Wait! Aren't guys supposed to stick their tongues in girl's mouths when they kiss them? I'll try that! Maybe it will help. _I turned my mouth to the side and French kissed her. Our tongues touched. _Ew. This is actually kinda gross. It's so…slimy. _I pulled myself back, underwhelmed and confused by my anticlimactic reaction. Ben and Mike were catcalling.

"Go Eric!" Mike said, punching me in the shoulder.

"Ow!" I yelped.

"Sorry."

Lauren sighed, her eyes rolling back in their sockets. "You don't kiss as good as Connor or Tyler. Or even as good as David Greenman or Robin McKenzie." I stared at her, revolted. _The girl is a whore! _I thought. She opened her eyes, blinking rapidly. She squeezed my hand tighter. "I made out with each of those guys within a two week time span. None of them knew about any of the others. I kissed them with stolen lipstick too!"

"Wow…that's a little too much information," I said, repelled. She grabbed my wrist and pulled me towards her face once again.

"I'll grace your lips with mine once more, so you have something to remember me by," she whispered in a barely coherent voice, her glassy green eyes looking rather unhealthy.

"Er…no thank you," I said, backing away. _She might give me oral herpes!_ I thought. _Or mono! Ew. _

"I'm going to die because you rejected me," she said loudly, her eyes bulging. "Don't reject me Eric! Don't!"

"Erm…whatever. I…well…I think I can do better. I don't really want to date you any more," I said, picking up my backpack and turning towards the door. "Let's go boys."

"You're breaking up with me??" Lauren gasped, wild-eyed. She clutched her heart with her hand. "But…_Eric! _Why? Don't you care for me at all?"

"Were we ever _really _going out in the first place?" I asked. The truth of the statement hit me. _We never really were in love. It was all a lie._

"Oh! Yorkie!" she screamed.

"Shut up!" the lady across the room screamed. However, we barely registered her screams…for at that moment, Lauren's skin began to look very blotchy. Her breathing became labored, and it appeared that she couldn't breathe. The monitors that she was hooked up to began to beep, as her heart rate jumped from fifty-eight beats per minute to ninety-eight.

"What's wrong with her?" I yelled, alarmed. _Oh my god! Oh my god! She said that she was going to die from my rejection…and now she's dying!_

"I…can't…breathe…" she wheezed, her eyes bugging.

To my surprise, Carlisle Cullen instantly flew into the room, followed by Edward and Alice. _That was quick. Carlisle must have been nearby. But what are Edward and Alice doing here?_ I wondered.

"We got here to tell you as fast as we could," Alice was saying to her father in a low, quick tone, fishing through a tiny, pink, patent leather purse and pulling out what appeared to be an unlabeled syringe with a black cover on its tip. She ignored our presence entirely. "We tried to call you on your cell phone, but you weren't answering it."

"I never can get a signal in here," he muttered. "Stupid building…"

"What are you and Alice doing here?" I asked Edward, confused. "Shouldn't you be on your way to school?"

I may as well have been mute, for Edward didn't even bother to make eye contact with me. Instead, he took the syringe from his sister, flicked off the cap, and plunged it directly into Lauren's outer right thigh, right through her hospital gown.

"Hey! Why'd you do that? What's going on?" I demanded. Carlisle ignored me, whizzing out of the room and returning moments later with a ventilator. He handed a plastic object to Edward.

"I need to set up the machine," he said to his son. "Can you intubate her?" Edward stared at him like he was crazy. His expression was first stunned, then amused.

"Dad? I know we were up really late last night and you must be tired, but this is just bad clinical judgment. Did you skip your morning coffee or something?"

"Edward! This is an emergency!" Carlisle snapped. Edward raised his eyebrows.

"I'm a mere seventeen-year-old kid. How on _earth _would I know how to insert a breathing tube down a patient's throat?" he glanced meaningfully at Ben, Mike and I.

"Oh…right," Carlisle said apologetically. "I meant…can you…er…get a nurse in here who can help intubate her?" he was plugging the ventilator into the wall, his fingers flying across its buttons. Edward nodded once and flew from the room, returning moments later with a nurse, who began to attempt to shove the tube down Lauren's throat.

"What's going on?" I demanded.

"Anaphylaxis!" Carlisle said in a harried voice.

"In English, please," Mike said, annoyed.

"Severe allergic reaction to something. She can't breathe because her airway is closed."

"It's not going in!" the nurse cried frantically. "Her throat's too swollen. You'll need to get one of the residents to do a tracheostomy!"

"None of the residents are available," Carlisle said through gritted teeth. "Stupid staffing shortage. Edward! Make the incision!"

_Why on _earth _does Carlisle keep asking Edward to do medical procedures?_

"Why on _earth _do you keep asking me to do medical procedures?" Edward asked Carlisle in an innocent voice, repeating my silent question. "I'm just a kid!"

"Er…right. Nurse Kaltenborn! Finish setting up the machine. I need to get a trach tube in…now!"

"What does all that mean?" Mike asked.

"I need to cut a open her trachea below her voice box to insert a tube, so that she can breathe!" Carlisle said quickly.

"I'm…uh…going to leave now," Alice said suddenly. "No sticking around to watch someone's throat get slit. Ew." _She's the reason Lauren's here in the first place! Shouldn't she be more worried about her? _I gave her a funny look, and she shrugged. "I faint at the sight of blood." Edward smirked

"I think I'm going to leave as well," he said quickly. "Blood grosses me out as well. Can't stand being around the stuff." He waved nonchalantly to Carlisle. "Have fun saving lives Dad! I think you can handle this one on your own. We're off to school…don't want to be late!" Carlisle began muttering things under his breath. I didn't understand a word he was saying, but something must have registered with Edward, for the handsome young man suppressed a smile.

"Come on boys, we've gotta get out of here. They're about to do surgery." He and Alice steered the three of us out of the room and shut the door behind him.

"Don't worry about her though," Alice said brightly. "She's going to be fine. Well…the lack of oxygen to her brain will leave her mildly mentally retarded…but all together, she's coming through the situation just fine."

"_May_ leave her mentally retarded," Edward corrected pointedly. "We don't know the outcome yet…remember?"

"Oh yeah." She nodded vigorously. "She _may _become mentally retarded. Sorry."

"So what was going on in there?" I asked. Alice and Edward seemed to have a much better grasp of what was going on than I did.

"Lauren's severely allergic to peanuts," Edward explained.

"She _is?_" Mike asked surprised. "I didn't know that!"

"Neither did I," I said. _Weird. She's my girlfriend…or was…did we break up? Anyways, there's so much that she and I didn't know about each other, even if we _did _start out as friends first._

"Yeah. If she eats anything with even the slightest trace of peanuts in it…even peanut oil, her throat will swell up. The only thing is…how on earth did she get her hands on peanuts? Carlisle said that she hadn't eaten anything since the surgery. It's so weird." I gulped. _Oh my god! It was when I kissed her! Some of the peanut M&M's must have been stuck in my teeth and gotten into her mouth!_

"How did _you _know about the allergy?" I asked suspiciously. Edward shrugged.

"It came up in conversation once," he said smoothly. I narrowed my eyes.

"You've never dated her…have you?" _How many guys has this girl gone through! _Edward made a horrified face.

"Oh God no. Her thoughts give new meaning to the term 'venomous'. Besides, blondes aren't my type."

"So what were you doing here anyways, this early in the morning?"

"Delivering her purse," Alice said easily. "I grabbed it from the locker room yesterday so that I could give her ID and insurance card to the ambulance crew. I accidentally took it home last night though, and wanted to make sure that she had it, so that if her parents called on her cell phone, they'd be able to reach her."

"But…how did you know what was happening? And why were you rushing in like that? And Alice…how did you know the combination to Lauren's gym locker?"

"Um…" Alice faltered.

"Hey look over there!" Edward said suddenly, before I could finish asking questions pointing up at a TV in the corner of the room. "It's that episode of _Angel _where Darla comes back pregnant!" He laughed out loud. "Man, that story arc was kooky. Who would have expected that a vampire could father a super-human mutant?"

"At least he had the sense to stop having sex with humans," Alice said, pointedly. "That _never _turned out well for him." Edward glared at her, though I couldn't figure out why.

"You guys watch _Buffy?_" Ben said, awed. His eyes were shining. Alice grinned at him.

"We _love _vampire shows," she said. Edward chuckled.

"That we do. That we do," he admitted. Mike moaned as the four of us launched into an animated discussion of the pros and cons of holy water versus wooden stake versus decapitation as we made our ways to our cars.

By the time lunch rolled around it seemed that the whole school knew about my kiss of near-death.

"Eric, is it true that you almost killed Lauren by kissing her?" Jessica asked, bobbing up and down in her seat next to Mike. She had the crazed look of a girl who was dying to start a rumor.

"Er…yeah. Apparently, if someone who has a peanut allergy kisses someone who has eaten peanuts, it can kill them."

"Lauren kissed _you_?" Jessica asked loudly. The attention of the entire lunch table was on me.

"Well…no. I kissed her. But only after she asked…no…_begged_ me to." Squeals and shrieks erupted from the females at the table.

"Was it everything you thought it would be?" Jessica asked. I cringed, before shaking my head.

"Erm…no, actually. There was no chemistry there. It was actually kinda gross. Plus, she said that I wasn't as good of a kisser as Connor, Tyler, David, or Robin, all of whom she was apparently making out with at the same within a two week time period." Jessica gasped.

"Holy crow…" Jessica's voice trailed off and the entire lunch table went completely silent.

"She was high on morphine," I said quickly. "I'm sure that she was just making it up." My listeners didn't seem convinced.

"When was the last time you kissed Lauren?" Tyler asked Connor suspiciously.

"Er…yesterday," Connor said.

"I kissed her four days ago, at a party," Tyler said, realization dawning on his face. At once, the table burst into a new discussion, trying to figure out who'd been cheating on who with Lauren. I screwed my eyes shut and fell silent, focusing on my sandwich. That's when I overheard Bella and Edward were speaking to one another in low, hushed voices.

"For the last time, Edward! We can't get married! We're only eighteen, for crying out loud!" Bella said indignantly.

"But we're in love! People get married when they're in love and financially secure. Thanks to Alice, we have more money than anyone else in the world, and we're definitely in love, so it only makes sense."

"Everyone will think I'm pregnant!"

"No they won't!"

"Yes they will! Only pregnant girls get married that young."

"Well, you're obviously not pregnant, since vampires can't have kids."

_Vampires?? _I thought. I wondered what the heck Edward and Bella were talking about. _Are they part of some kinda role-playing game?_

"Rosalie and Emmett's characters got married in game just last week, and no one ever _once _asked them if they were pregnant," Edward said quickly. "I just think that it's just your character's fear of commitment that's making her hold out!"

"That's not true! If your character hadn't…wait…what?" Bella said, confused.

"Fine. Forget I asked about marriage. Just focus on upping your experience points and finding the portal to Pylea," Edward said.

"Erm. Uh. What are you talking about?" she said, confused.

I took the bait. I couldn't help it. I whirled to face them.

"Edward! I knew you were a Buffy fan, but I didn't know that you were _that_ much of a Buffy fan!"

"Huh?" Bella said, her wide brown eyes squinting with confusion.

"You two actually play the Buffy RPG!!" I was wild with excitement. I'd wanted to play the game for _months, _but had been unable to find anyone to play it with…which was the whole point of hooking Ben into watching the show with me.

"We play the…_what?" _Bella said, acting like she had no idea what we were talking about.

"My love," Edward said, nuzzling his neck with her nose. "You don't have to hide the fact that we're gamers from Eric. I know you think it's nerdy…but it's nothing to be ashamed of."

"Oh," she said, looking from Edward to me and back again. She opened her mouth as if to say something, then promptly shut it.

"What game is it?" I asked Edward eagerly.

"We play online in a text-based MUD," Edward said in his smooth voice. "We play a coven of vampires who have superpowers. My character can read minds and Alice's has visions of the future. Carlisle's character has magical healing powers, and Bella plays the helpless damsel in distress. You get the idea. All the typical _Buffyverse _vampire weaknesses and strengths apply. There's a group of vampire-slayers who we fight. Emmett makes up all the quests. It's very addictive. My whole family is often awake way after midnight." He said this statement quickly, without a second's hesitation. Bella was giving him a look that said _you can't be serious._

"Can I play with you?" I breathed in awe. Edward looked uncomfortable.

"You'll…er…have to ask Emmett," he said quickly. "Emmett's really picky about who he lets into our guild. One bad plotline and the whole game is a loss, you know."

"You don't have to worry…I've been playing RPGs since I was about five. There's probably a thing or two I can teach Emmett!" I said, enthused. _The whole Cullen clan is made up of gamer-nerds like me! _I couldn't get over the coolness of the fact. "Can I have Emmett's phone number? Or email? I'd love to chat with him about plotlines and ideas for quests…"

"Actually," Alice said, jumping into the conversation, her eyes suddenly twinkling with merriment. "Emmett's going to be here at school today."

"He _is??_"

"Yeah! See…he's majoring in Teaching—with an emphasis in Phys. Ed.—at Dartmouth. He's also on the Track and Field team there as well. His specialty is the shot put and the discus throw. Anyways, since he's home on Summer Break, he offered to help Coach Clapp teach this part of the curriculum. You can ask him when you see him in gym next hour!" With that statement from her, Edward just about doubled over, breathless with laughter.

"What's so funny?" Bella and I demanded in unison.

"Nothing," Edward said quickly, his golden eyes twinkling.

"Nothing at all," Alice said with a grin.

"I'm going to get going now then!" I said with excitement. "If I get changed now, it will give me some time to talk to Emmett before gym even starts!"

"Go for it!" Edward said in a voice that was somehow smug. "Emmett's in the gym right now. He'd _love _to talk to you about the RPG." I quickly got up from the table and made my way for the locker rooms.

_This is going to be so awesome! _I thought to myself.

Ten minutes later, I found Emmett out on the outdoor track, making a huge circle around a baseball plate with chalk powder.

"Hey Emmett!" I said, approaching him excitedly. His massive, six-foot-six-inch frame towered over me and his muscles bulged ominously. I gulped.

"What is it, Yorkie?" he asked in a disinterested voice.

"Edward and Alice told me why you and your family stays up all night, every night."

"They did, now, did they?" he abruptly turned from what he was doing, giving me a curious look.

"Yeah! I think it's cool! I can't believe that your whole family loves online games."

"Jasper and I _do_ put a lot of thought into the games we design," he admitted.

"Anyways…I was wondering if I might join your coven!" At the word _coven_, he dropped the stack of cones.

"You know our secret?" he gasped, utterly taken aback.

"Yeah! Edward let it slip at lunch and told me to ask you about it." Emmett peered at me with a stony look on his face.

"You know what we are." It wasn't a question…if felt more like he'd been sentenced to death.

"Yeah! You're vampires. I think it's awesome!" Emmett was frozen solid, still as stone. He had an odd expression on his face, as though he was calculating something. "I've been playing online RPGs for years…and before that, I did _Dungeons and Dragons _with paper and pencil. I could totally help you plan battles and strategize ways to outsmart the vampire slayers." Suddenly Emmett stared at me, puzzled.

"Vampire slayers?" his expression was lightening. He looked less angry.

"You know…in the game!"

"The game…" Emmett looked like he was trying to put two and two together.

"The vampire versus slayer game that you and your family play online every night!"

"The vampy…what…" Emmett's head suddenly shot up and he narrowed his eyes. I looked to see what he was looking at, and saw Edward, Bella, and Alice sitting in the bleachers, watching our interaction with interest. They waved at Emmett. He growled.

"No! You can't join our coven!" he snapped at me. My heart sank.

"But…why? I'd be a good asset to your team!"

"Because…er…well…"

"Yes?" I pried.

"Well…" he paused, as if trying to think of a good excuse. "Because just a few days ago, you had the audacity to ask my wife to prom!" he snapped. I took a step back and stared at Emmett.

"Huh?"

"Rosalie! You asked her to prom! Idiot!" I squinted at him.

"You and Rosalie aren't married," I said. "At least…I'm sure I would have heard about a wedding, if there was one…"

"Er…" he seemed to be thinking very quickly. "We're…er…um…married in the game."

"_OH." _Now it all made sense. "Well…I'm sorry about that! I didn't know about your online involvement with your adopted sister at the time." Emmett growled again.

"Either way, you're not allowed to join. Now butt out."

"Please? Come on! I've seen every episode of each show at least six times! I've downloaded and memorized all the scripts! I've even started my own website called _An Expert's Guide to Slaying Vampires. _It has weapons profiles of all sorts of wooden stakes and battle axes for decapitations and everything!" For a moment Emmett looked like he was about to crack up, before he composed his face again and gave me a hard look.

"Our initiation process is very painful. I doubt you have the strength or resolve to survive. And also, we have this Manifesto that we've written of all of our rules that you'd have to memorize. If you break one of them…or even _think _ of breaking one of them, we kick you out. No if, ands or butts. Sorry, but I don't think you have what it takes."

"Give me a try. Please?" I begged. Emmett surpressed a smile, his shoulders shaking a little, before answering me in as surly of a tone as he could muster.

"No. Absolutely not. That's my final answer. You may _not _join our gaming community!" he turned back to setting up for gym.

_This conversation is not over…not over…not over. _I told myself silently. _I will ask Emmett again, and again, every chance I get today! He _will _let me play the game. He _has _to let me play._

Coach Clapp blew his whistle, signaling the start of class.

"Good afternoon!" he announced. "Today, we are starting the throwing section of our track and field curriculum. For the first half hour of class, we will be working on the discus throw. After that is done, we will be doing shot-put. Emmett Cullen, who has kindly volunteered his summer vacation time to help me teach, will be leading the guys in their activities, while I lead the girls in their activities.

"Why are you splitting up the guys and the girls?" Mike asked, holding Jessica's hand protectively.

"The guys throw a three pound nine ounce discus, while the girls throw a two-point-two pound one," he explained. "The guys shot putt ball is twelve pounds, while the girls' is eight-point-eight pounds."

"I can throw a twelve pound shot put no problem," Alice muttered. Edward smiled and jabbed her in the ribs.

"Asthmatic," he taunted. She stuck her tongue out at him.

The two throwing activities were very similar, but they seemed to have different techniques. From the center of the circle, we had to launch the heavy objects away from our bodies as far as they'd go. The goal was to cross the line, and get them out of the circle. Emmett was explaining the dangers of using the overhand method and pitching the shot-putt ball like a baseball. Something about rotator cuff tears that I didn't understand. He also explained the different ways to add spin to the discus or launch forces to the shot-put. All in all, it looked like it was going to be an easy gym class.

_No running, no asthma attacks, no one whacking each other with hockey sticks. Most of class today is going to consist of waiting in line for my turn. I can handle that! _

When it was my turn to throw the discus, Emmett came up next to me.

"Now Yorkie," he said, placing my hand on the heavy disc. "You're going to want to hold this like this, with your index finger up around the edge." He pointed to the outer edges of the circle.

"See that arc?" I looked up and saw that there was a line where about sixty degrees of the radius of the circle was orange instead of white.

"Yeah."

"When you throw the disc, you need to make sure that it lands somewhere in the orange range. Your goal is to make it as far as you can past the edge of the circle, but within the orange arc."

"Speaking of arcs..._story_ arcs that is…please give me a chance here! I've dreamt for _years _of finding a group of fans this die hard. I really…_really _could help you out with developing some storylines for quests…plots…stuff…" Emmett glared at me.

"What part of 'no' don't you understand?" he roared. I cowered back.

"Nothing! Nothing…sorry I asked." Emmett gave me a hard look.

"You are _not _allowed to pester me with questions about some stupid TV show while we are playing sports. Is that understood?"

"Yes," I said meekly.

"Good. Now, when you throw the disc, you'll want to start facing away from the orange part of the circle. You'll spin one and a half times to gain momentum before releasing the disc.

"But you see…I wrote this really great fanfic this one time about what it'd be like if there were vampires here in Forks! It would be a great story to role-play out! I mean…could you imagine what it would be like to have demon hunters up here? In a rural, mountainous country instead of a city or a suburb?" Emmett was clenching and unclenching his fists, glaring…for some reason…at Edward, who appeared to be enjoying himself.

"There aren't vampires in Forks!" Emmett snapped. "Get your head in the game!"

"That's what I've been trying to do…"

"THIS GAME!" he bellowed, pointing to the disc.

"Oh. Right."

"Kay. Now…you get a total of six throws, and the best of your six is marked. I measure your distance from the line itself to where the disc lands. At the end of the session, I'll compare the distance of your throw to the distance of your classmates. The most important thing to make sure of is that you don't bring your hand back overhead like this," he twisted his hand back, as if he was trying to touch the back of his head. "If you do, the weight of the disc could dislocate your shoulder."

"I think I got it. Turn one and a half times and throw the disc. Great."

The other ten guys in my gym class were sitting on the grass, bored, waiting for their turns to start. Mike, Tyler, and Connor were playing with blades of grass, while Ben looked like he was about to fall asleep.

"You may begin," Emmett said, gesturing.

My first throw didn't go so far. In fact…it landed on my foot.

"Yeow!!" I screamed.

"You're supposed to throw it, not drop it," Emmett said in an impatient voice.

"I'll do better this time…I swear!" I said. _Maybe if Emmett sees my skilz with the heavy Frisbee thing, he'll let me join! _I whirled twice and released the disc. This time it went about five feet total…past the edge of the perimeter. Unfortunately, it was in precisely the wrong direction. Howls of laughter came from the guys. The pressure of it made it hard to breathe. I puffed on my inhaler and picked up another disc.

"Come on Yorkie! Give it a real whirl!" Emmett said, in his best coaching voice. The disc twisted my wrist at the last second, and I dropped it.

"Gah!" I rubbed my wrist, hoping it wasn't sprained. Emmett sighed.

"Let me demonstrate how this is _supposed _to be done," he said. He motioned for me to back up to where the other guys were standing. He faced us, gracefully twirled one and a half turns, and launched the discus.

It spun in the air, practically floating from his hand, and landed about thirty feet past the line, dead center down the middle of the sixty-degree arc. The rest of the boys in the class applauded.

"Well done!" called Connor, who had always idolized Emmett. Emmett grinned, pleased with himself, and took a bow.

"Now…a lot of beginners have difficulty mastering the one and a half turn spin, because it makes them dizzy and offsets their throw. If you'd like to try an easier technique, you can jump forward a step to gain your momentum before launching the discus. It's not as powerful, and you won't achieve as much distance, but it's easier to do accurately."

I tried his technique for the four remaining throws. The good news was that I didn't injure myself. The bad news was that not one of the throws crossed the orange line.

After each of the boys finished their throws (Tyler's disc went the farthest), we traded places with the girls and took our places for the shot-put.

It wasn't that much different than the discus throw. The circle was slightly smaller, but the technique was the same: spin or step to gain momentum before launching the ball forward. The only real difference was the handling of the ball. Emmett demonstrated the correct form, which was to hold the ball at your neck before shoving it forward. He warned us, again, that attempting to throw the shot-put like a baseball could easily dislocate your shoulder.

I stood farther back in line, hoping that, perhaps if he had some time to cool down, that Emmett would finally be calm enough to see reason. _He _has _to let me join. He just has to! I'm the ultimate nerd. You can't exclude the ultimate nerd from the ultimately nerdy activity! It's immoral!_

When it was finally my turn to do the shot put, I picked up the ball, determined to demonstrate my manliness to Emmett. It didn't go so well. The ball slipped through my fingers as I attempted to launch it and hit my knee.

"Mmmrrrraaaahhh!" I screeched.

"Yorkie! Get a grip on yourself." I sighed and attempted the second shot. Just as I got my hands up overhead, the ball rolled back, hitting me in my face.

"OW! My eye!" I cried.

"For heaven's sake! Let me show you how this is done," Emmett said with a scowl. The other boys cheered as he took his place next to me. He placed his hands over mine on the ball. They were freezing. A shiver ran down my spine.

"Why are your hands so cold?" I asked. He didn't answer.

"All right. Now, Yorkie. I'm going to help guide your hands so that you don't hurt yourself again. Are you ready?"

"Erm…I guess."

"All right. See where my feet are lined up?"

"Yeah."

"Good. Now together. One," he gave the ball a little lift from the shoulder and brought it back down.

"Two," we stepped forward together, gaining momentum.

"Thr—"

"I've written an index of all of the creatures and characters— demons, humans, and creatures from other dimensions— who exist in the Buffyverse. It's yours if you just let me play!"

"ARRRRGGGHHH!!" Emmett's temper flared, and he shoved forward, in perfect sync with my effort. To my surprise, the shot-put sailed high overhead. We looked up and saw it silhouetted against the cloudy sky. Up, up, up it went. It seemed like it would never come down. There was a murmuring from the boys behind me…gasps of disbelief…

THUNK. PLOP.

Silence.

"Coach Clapp!" Bella screamed. The ball had hit Coach Clapp, who'd had his backs to us boys, right smack dab in the rear end, knocking him to the ground.

"Not again," Edward groaned as he sprinted across the field. The rest of the class followed.

"Coach!" Edward said quietly, as he leaned down. "Are you all right? Talk to me!"

"What on earth just happened there?" Coach Clapp said, rolling to his side and rubbing his rear end.

"Eric Yorkie's shot-put went over eighty feet," Emmett said proudly.

"Oh come on!" I said, scoffing. "That wasn't my shot. Emmett was showing me how to do it, and we launched it together. That was both of our strength combined…which was mostly Emmett's strength." Emmett shook his head.

"No Yorkie! I was just guiding the direction of your force. You actually put all the strength behind it. That's some arm you have." The whole class was staring at me with a sense of wonder. A buzz of gossip and whispers of awe went up from the group.

_I…I did that? _

"_You_ did that Eric!" Edward said confidently. "I was watching closely. Emmett's right. You're a natural at this! A real athlete!"

_I…I am?_

"You are!" Mike said, nodding vigorously. "I saw it too! I swear! Emmett really _didn't _have anything to do with it!" Before I knew what was happening, Tyler, Connor, David, Robin, and every other guy in the class was swearing up and down that they saw me launch the shot put with very little help from Emmett. It _had _to be true.

_I'm strong! I'm a natural athlete!_

"Not everyone has natural strength and talent like that, Yorkie," Emmett said in a soft voice. "I'd suggest that you spend less time in role-playing-games and more time developing your aptitude for throwing sports." He punched me in the shoulder.

"Ow!"

"Sorry."

"Um…can someone help me up please?" Coach Clapp asked.


	11. Tyler Swims Breaststroke

_Author's Note__:_

_I was tickled to death when someone informed me that if you Google "Lauren ruptured spleen," or "Mike Newton windshield," your browser will pull up a link to this story on the first page. _

_A huge thanks to blondie AKA Robin, leechlover, and saramomof5 for betaing. You ladies rock! _

_I'm so sorry that it's been ages since I updated! I started working full time five weeks ago and didn't have as much time to write any more. But this was a lot of fun to put together! _

_Now that the blizzards have started in Michigan and I'll be snowbound more often than not in the evenings, I hopefully will be able to finish this story before New Years Day. I just have Angela's chapter left, then an epilogue from Coach Clapp. It will be nice to finally be done with this and move on to other projects._

_This chapter is from Tyler Crowley's perspective. Normal disclaimers apply._

**Tyler Swims Breaststroke**

The great thing about living in a small town is that everyone knows everyone. There's a feeling of intimacy here that fosters a sense of belonging. You walk down the street and everybody asks how your grandma is doing. You know who your neighbors are. If there's an event and you hear about it, you're invited. Your life is a thread in the interwoven fabric of the community.

The awful thing, however, about living in a small town, is that everyone knows everyone's _business_. There's a lack of privacy that fosters a sense of being watched. You walk down the street and everyone asks if what your grandma said about your love life is really true. Your neighbors spy on you. If you plan for a small get together with two or three friends, eighty people show up. Your secrets don't stay secret for very long, not if any of the town busybodies have anything to say about it.

In general, I try not to get involved with that kind of crap. It's disgusting really, that people have nothing better to do than to talk about each other. I try not to listen. But still…you hear.

Today's lunchroom conversation was no exception to the rule. I tried to tune out the sawing of the rumor mill, but without earplugs, it was hard to do.

According to reliable sources, Mrs. Cope had spent the last three months in a secret Internet relationship with a person whom she'd _thought _was a much younger, very handsome man. When her husband found out, he'd left her. Meanwhile, Mr. Banner had spent the last three months in a secret Internet relationship with a person whom he'd _thought_ was a much younger, very beautiful woman. When his wife found out, she'd left him. When all was said and done, however, it turned out that Mr. Banner and Mrs. Cope had actually been in a secret Internet relationship with each other. They were more surprised than pleased.

In unrelated news, Lauren's reputation had—in one day—gone from appealing to appalling. The "Vote for Me" fliers of herself that she'd posted all over the school were now grafittied with every synonym of the word "slut" available in the languages of English, Spanish, and Swahili (thanks to an African sophomore exchange student who had taught his friends some of the more colorful phrases of his native tongue). Meanwhile, for the first time in Eric's life, girls who'd never before given him the time of day were batting their eyelashes at him, fascinated by his every joke. He was now known as a hidden gem whose kisses were simply "to die for," as well as an athlete whose hidden prowess had earned him the nickname "diamond in the rough." He'd managed to snag a date to the prom with Katie, who was hanging on his every dorky vampire speech and lame RPG story like they were the most fascinating things in the world. Rumor had it that their first date had been to the renaissance fair, where he'd convinced her that going to prom in medieval gear was a great idea. How bizarre.

Speaking of prom, the votes were in. By an overwhelming majority vote, "Bengela," the shyest and most mismatched-looking couple ever to grace Forks with their odd presence, had been elected prom queen and king. To the surprise of many, some collaboration of anonymous donors known as the _Pacific Northwest Trust _had contributed a special prize for the winners: A $130.00 gift card to _Sassy Kat_ _Salon_, for Angela's manicure, pedicure and updo; a $150.00 gift card to _Western Tuxedo Rentals, _for Ben to get dressed to the nines; a $140.00 gift card for _Reggie's Limousine Services_; and a $50.00 gift card to _Bella Italia_. The student body was stunned. Our school was so small and unheard of that it was rare for us to receive grant money for even normal things like textbooks and curriculum planning. To receive money for a prom court prize was just plain strange.

Ben and Angela weren't the only lovebirds nesting in the tree, though. "Messica" was apparently back on. Mike Newton's lovesick heart had done the quickest one-eighty I'd ever observed in my life. In less than a week, he'd gone from mooning over Bella Swan to being crazy in love with Jessica Stanley. Everywhere she went, he valiantly and nobly opened doors for her as she hobbled through on her crutches, and every day she smiled radiantly at him, looking like she was going to swoon. It seemed that the sprained ankle Alice caused was a blessing in disguise.

_Alice._ Another person caught up in the strange turn of events. In the past week, she'd somehow gone from being on the fringe of the social scene to at the very heart of it. The party she and Bella were throwing looked like it was going to be the event of the century. I just couldn't understand it. I mean…everyone knew that Alice was an absolute dunce when it came to technology, she carried around a tattered copy of _Windows 98 for Dummies _wherever she went, for crying out loud! Suddenly, she was asking for everyone's play lists and talking about _mixing music. _The fact that she was—for the first time in her life—able to plan parties was only slightly less weird than the fact that Bella, who was so reserved that she made _Angela_ look outgoing, was helping to plan it.

Bella. Sigh. For the second year in a row, I would _not _be going to prom with Bella Swan. I'd asked her this morning, thinking that maybe…just _maybe…_she'd feel bad about the fiasco that was last year. Maybe…just _maybe…_she was still mad at Edward for whatever it was that she was mad at him about last week. So I'd worked up the courage and asked.

Her response?

"_Prom. As in dance. I uh—have to go somewhere. To Jacksonville. Yeah."_

I'd stared at her in disbelief. It was _Seattle _all over again.

"_Can't you go another weekend?"_ I'd asked.

"_Non-refundable tickets!"_ she'd blurted out. _"Sorry. Edward said that we have to use up the vouchers before they expire, so it's this weekend or nothing."_

Double-sigh. The most desirable catch in school was not going to prom with me, but on a romantic beach trip with Edward Cullen. I grimaced, remembering his rude words from last year as I showed up at her house with a corsage the night of the prom. She'd promised, after all, and I'd expected to end our special evening with a kiss, and possibly a whole lot more.

"_Hello, Tyler. This is Edward Cullen. I'm sorry if there's been some kind of miscommunication but Bella is unavailable tonight. To be perfectly honest, she'll be unavailable every night, as far as anyone besides myself is concerned. No offense. And I'm sorry about your evening."_

The words had shocked the living daylights out of me. When she couldn't go to the Sadie Hawkins dance junior year, she'd _promised _to go to prom with me. Hadn't she? Or did I we have some sort of a miscommunication there? She must have forgotten, with Cullen dripping all over her. Didn't she realize that I'd been dreaming of ways to make the night special for her for _months? _Ever since the incident with the van, when I'd first taken notice of her, when I'd first realized how beautiful she was, I'd dreamed of holding her in my arms and never letting her go.

_So much for that idea, _I thought grimly. I picked gingerly at my sandwich, watching the object of my infatuation, whom I'd never really gotten over, chat animatedly with Alice; two seats down from me. They looked so similar to one another, with their slight frames, pale skin, and bright eyes. The way their eyes held each other's secrets…it seemed more like they were sisters than best friends.

I sourly recalled the fact that not only Bella, but _Alice _had turned me down for prom this year. After Bella's no-thank-you, I'd asked Alice, figuring that if I got close to Bella's best friend, it might help me get close to the brunette herself. The plan backfired something fierce. That evening, I got eight phone calls from various aunts who'd wanted to know if it was _really _true that Alice Cullen had told me that she'd rather go to prom with "an incontinent, rabid, one-eyed possum named Larry."

_At least I get to see both of them in swimsuits today, _I reminded myself, trying to cheer myself up. I grinned to myself. After a week of gym being replaced by study halls, due to Coach Clapp's pelvic fracture, PE was back on. The principle hadn't been able to find a substitute teacher…apparently the rumor was making its way around the subbing community that the class was cursed. The overweight gym teacher was having a difficult time walking, and an even more difficult time sitting, so he'd decided to forget about the track and field curriculum, which kept getting canceled for rain anyways, and teach class in the pool, where the buoyancy of the water would make it easier for him to get by.

_I wonder what kind of swimsuit Bella brought_… I let my eyes wander over her t-shirt and comfy-jean clad body and tried to imagine her in a bikini. The fantasy grew hotter as I imagined _myself_ with her on some Florida beach, the sun streaming down on warm skin as we sunned ourselves. I imagined her curling up next to me...smiling…reaching for me. _What a babe, _I thought. _I should keep trying. Maybe the concept of Tyella is_ not_ a lost cause. Tyella. Mmmm. I like the sound of it. Tyella, Tyella, Tyella. We could name one of our kids that someday._

Suddenly, without warning, I heard a huge crashing sound as something hit my chair. I felt a sharp splash of burning pain, as something hot and wet spread across the front of my shirt and the top of my pants.

"YEOWWWWWW!!!!" I screeched.

"Oh Tyler! I'm _so_ terribly sorry!" Edward gasped. I looked down to see him sprawled on the floor, on his butt, looking stunned and slightly embarrassed. In his hands, he clutched a light green plastic lunch tray, on which there was, or rather, had been, a large bowl of steaming chili. The chili was now totally and completely covering most of my shirt and a good portion of my pants. Strangely enough, not one drop of the soup had gotten on him. There was a moment of silence, before the lunch table erupted in laughter. No one laughed louder than Alice, whose bell-like peals rang so loud that I was surprised that she didn't shatter one of my contact lenses with her vibrato. For some reason though, Bella just rolled her eyes, giving Alice a look that said _give me a break._

Edward ducked his head and scrambled to his feet in a move so smooth that it would've made Patrick Swayze jealous. He handed me a napkin that was way too small to clean up the mess. "I can't believe that I did that!" he gushed. "My foot totally just slipped. How clumsy of me. Are you all right?"

"Yeah," I lied, ignoring the throbbing pain of the bruise that was forming on my shin, and wiping the ground beef and kidney beans from my thighs. "I'm okay. Just wet and smelly."

"Maybe you should go get changed into your gym clothes," he suggested in an overly concerned, velvety voice.

"I didn't bring anything other than my swimsuit and towel," I muttered. Like I was going to parade around in swim trunks for the rest of the day.

"Wow…that's rough," Edward said with a frown, rubbing the back of his head. Though his tone was polite, I could have sworn that he was mocking me with his eyes. I looked close at his eyes and shuddered. They'd always given me the creeps.

From across the table, Bella gave him a withering look.

"Hey Ty," Connor called, from four seats away, "Don't worry about it. I have an extra change of clothes in my gym bag. They're a little sweaty from the jog I did with Mike this morning, but it's probably better than smelling like the lunch lady." I gave him a wry grin. He grinned back, before shooting me a sympathetic look. We'd been commiserating together all morning over the fact that we'd been played like fools. Though neither of us had really been all that interested in more than the physical with Lauren, the fact that she'd cheated on both of us not only with each other but with _Eric _left us each feeling used and wronged.

"Thanks Connor," I said lamely. "But lunch is half over anyways. No point in changing for just fifteen minutes. I suppose I'll just have to deal with it till PE."

"I really _can't _express how sorry I am," Edward reiterated, wiping at the chili on my shirt with a napkin he swiped from Ben Cheney, which only really succeeded in smearing the orangish-brown goo around. Though his expression was concerned, his eyes appeared to be somewhat amused. "I'm such a klutz sometimes!"

"Riiiiiiiiiiiight…and Eric and I are Olympic level athletes," Bella muttered under her breath.

"What was that?" I asked her, not understanding.

"Nothing."

For the rest of the lunch hour I listened miserably as Edward and Bella planned their trip to Florida, getting the distinct impression that Edward was trying to give off a subliminal _back off…she's mine_ message to any male within earshot. Surprisingly, Bella, who usually listened raptly to whatever Edward had to say, was extremely distracted. She barely seemed to hear a word he was saying. Instead, she kept glancing at Alice with curious eyes, as though waiting for Alice to reveal some important information to her.

Alice, however, kept talking to Jessica, asking for her input on whether a fog machine and laser projector were a good idea for the party or if they would seem over the top, since they had already ordered black lights. Jessica (who seemed stunned that Alice was actually talking to her) was enthusiastically in favor of the lasers.

The soup crept into my underwear, little by little, and with a start, I realized that the chili was hot in more ways than one.

"Did you add Tabasco sauce to your chili?" I whispered to Edward.

"Um…yeah. I like things hot." He frowned. "Why? Are you okay?"

"I…er…gotta go…now," I said abruptly, as the burn intensified. Jumping up, no longer able to tolerate the discomfort, I made a dash for the locker room, much to the astonishment of my peers.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could swear that I saw Edward Cullen shaking with laughter.

* * *

Once alone, I stripped out of my clothing as quickly as I could and jumped in the shower. The cold water provided instant relief from the burning sting. I rinsed out my clothes under the stream of water and scrubbed them with soap, hoping to get most of the chili out. With a sigh, I realized that the orange would never actually come out of my white t-shirt or khaki pants. There would forever be a blotch on my crotch. Irritated, I threw the entire outfit away. _I liked those pants too, _I thought. _Had to go all the way to Seattle to buy them at The Gap. Oh well. At least Mike has something for me to change into._

By the time I got myself cleaned up and had donned my trunks and grabbed my goggles, the rest of the boys were getting changed for gym. I followed them out into the pool area. Once in the steamy, brown-tiled room, I smiled. All of my troubles disappeared and I remember exactly why I loved this part of the year.

Jessica Stanley was dressed in string bikini so skimpy that I wasn't exactly sure how it stayed on. Her boobs were practically falling out of the hot-pink contraption. Mike smacked the back of my head has he passed, and I turned my eyes to some of the other eye-candy in the room. _Man…these girls have sure grown up since freshman year…_

Katie was also in a two-piece, with a halter top that left very little to the imagination. Alice Cullen was in some kind of a black triangle-top get up, and Morgan's was a one-piece with the sides cut out and a tie in the back. A few had jumped in the water and discovered that it was too cold, so now they were standing on the deck shivering, suffering, to my delight, from severe cases of hard nipplitis.

_Stop looking. Can't get caught looking. _I chided myself. I afforded myself one more peek before reluctantly averting my , I was a red-blooded, hormone-filled, eighteen-year-old guy. Sure I was visually oriented. And sure, as a popular jock, I'd dated my fair share of the girls in the room. But that didn't mean that I was a leering fool. I'd always been known as a respectable sort of guy…a gentleman. No point in ruining that reputation three weeks before graduation. There were far too many people whose reputations were doing bizarre things lately and I didn't want to join their ranks.

"Ahhh…welcome to paradise," Connor said, elbowing me in the ribs. "This is as good as Christmas morning."

I sighed. He was—without apology and without trying to hide his interest—wolf-whistling at every other girl who walked into the pool area. I ignored him, trying to remember the core values the Noble Valiant Boys. _Honor. Chivalry. Respect. Bravery. Honor. Chivalry. Respect. Bravery._

"Check out _those_ knockers!" Connor said, pointing at Whitney, who was walking self-consciously out of the women's locker room. All the honorable thoughts disappeared as my eyes involuntarily peeked, and I gritted my teeth angrily. "It must be dark in here – the only place you'll find more headlights is at the drive-in." He resembled a dog hanging his head out a car window as he checked out every one of the shivering women.

"Didn't your mother ever tell you that staring is rude?" I asked Connor, exasperated.

"I'm just admiring the beauty of God's creation," he said with a shrug. "They're easy on the eyes. Except that Bella's suit is a disappointment. Man! It shows nothing." I glanced up at the pretty brunette. Sure enough, she was dressed modestly, in a solid, royal blue tank. However, despite its modest design, it was the most of her skin I'd ever seen, and it made my blood run warmer.

"It's no string bikini," I admitted. "But it is nice to see her legs." I tilted my head to the side, allowing my gaze to linger on her soft curves. _Damn. That girl would look hot in just about anything. I wonder if she's taking a _real _swimsuit to Florida with her._

Connor's brow furrowed, as he analyzed her figure. "It may cover up too much of her body, but at least it's v-cut."

"True that," I said, guiltily taking a closer look. The suit _did _provide a slight glimpse at some cleavage. I admired her body for the briefest second longer before glancing away. Out of the corner of my eye I could have sworn that Edward was glowering at me. _Did he see me checking his girlfriend out? _I wondered. _How could he have? I only glanced at her for a second._

"Attention class!" Coach Clapp called loudly, from his spot in the shallow end, where he had his arms draped over a red life-saving buoy. "Everyone in the pool!"

"But it's so _cold!_" Jessica complained. I coughed to cover up a laugh. Anyone who looked could see that she was cold.

"That's why we're going to warm up!" Coach Clapp said. "Everyone jump in. Five laps to warm up. Any stroke of your choice. When you're finished, exit the pool and stand at the shallow end. If you get done early, cheer the rest of your classmates to the finish. Begin!" He blew his whistle, and with a splash, body after body entered the pool. The icy water hit my skin and immediately chilled me to the core. Why was it that cold water affected the girls so…alertly…but did the opposite to guys? I hiked up my suddenly roomy suit and began swimming as quickly as possible, trying to get myself warm. I was relieved to be in the water, away from Connor's lewd comments. I'd much rather think my dirty thoughts to myself than to voice them and risk sounding like a prick. The lap time also allowed me a chance to check out the beauties in motion, through my goggles. _Nice._

Connor, Mike, and I finished our laps first (it wasn't our fault, being the biggest and the strongest) so we each stood at the edge together in a small huddle. Edward and Alice finished next, and came up behind us.

"Hi!" I said, giving a friendly at the tiny girl. "I like your swimsuit. It's really pretty. We're planning a La Push trip next weekend. You should come." _Get close to the friend…get close to the girl. _To my dismay, she ignored me. She was staring off into space with a blank look on her face, acting like she hadn't heard me at all. _Well that's rude. I was just trying to be nice. _I sat on the edge of the pool so that I wouldn't have to look at her, and dangled my feet over the edge, bored.

When the slowest swimmers, Bella Swan and Eric Yorkie—apparently his "Diamond in the Rough" skills didn't sparkle in the pool—had exited the frigid waters, Coach Clapp blew his whistle, from his place in the shallow end, draped over his red buoy.

"Now that you're all warmed up and ready for action, we can get started. Can anyone tell me the four main strokes used in swimming competitions?"

Angela raised her hand. I noticed that she was wearing a red one piece. _Baywatch…nice. _I'd seen the old reruns in syndication on TNT._ Except that she's too tall. Oh well. Still nice._

"Yes? Ms. Weber?"

"Freestyle, Backstroke, Breaststroke, and Butterfly," she said confidently.

"That is correct!" Coach Clapp said with a smile. "Out of those four strokes, which one consumes the most energy?"

"Butterfly, sir," Angela said confidently. Her usually soft voice carried as it bounced off of the ceramic tile that covered every square inch of the room. Of course she knew. Angela spent every summer teaching swim classes and life guarding at a camp for disabled children.

"That's correct as well. Now, Ms. Weber, can you tell the class which stroke consumes the_ least_ energy? In other words, which stroke can be used as a lifesaving stroke?"

"The breaststroke," Angela replied a little too loudly. At the words _breast _and _stroke_, Connor broke out into quiet laughter beside me. His immature chuckles set of a chain reaction, and before I knew what was happening, the entire class was cracking up. Angela looked mortified.

"I see a few breasts I'd like to stroke," Connor whispered. He glanced to the where Bella Swan stood with her arms crossed, which, unfortunately for her and fortunately for Connor, pushed a certain part of her anatomy slightly up and slightly together. My eyes widened at how nice they looked, and I was tempted to let my eyes stay where they were, but I glanced away quickly, berating myself for not being able to control my thoughts. I glared at Connor, annoyed by his social inappropriateness. This was just plain immature. If his eyes were wandering that much, God only knew where his thoughts were going.

"Quit being a pervert," I whispered to him.

"My God. The things I'd do with Bella if I could get her alone," he whispered back, chuckling.

BANG! SPLOOSH!

Without warning, there was the sound of skin squeaking against wet tile, followed by a crashing sound. I looked down and saw that Connor was no longer standing next to me, but had somehow ended up in the middle of the pool. He surfaced, sputtering. Surprised, I saw that Edward was, for the second time today, next to me on his bottom, with a stunned and slightly embarrassed expression on his face. The females in the class were giggling uncontrollably.

"Man! I'm so uncoordinated today! My foot hit a wet patch and I slipped," he explained...not _quite_ apologetically...before jumping gracefully back to his feet. He didn't look uncoordinated in the least. "Gosh. I'm sorry Connor. I didn't mean to knock you in." The class sniggered. From directly behind me, Alice's laughter was so musical that it was almost inhuman. Bella on the other hand sighed, burying her face in her hands. _I'd be embarrassed too, if I was dating someone that clumsy, _I thought. _Man. Cullen _is _a klutz!_

"Are you okay?" I asked Edward. As he stood up, I was shocked to see that some of the tile had cracked, where he landed. _He must have some major bruising going on, _I thought. _He won't be able to sit down for a week!_

"Um…I'm fine!" he glanced at the floor mildly. "That tile must be really cheap. Weird."

Conner moaned as he climbed out of the pool. There was a gigantic bruise forming on the back of his thigh. He must have banged himself up as he fell in.

"Ow…" he complained. He glared at Edward. "Watch where you're slipping next time!" He rubbed his leg, but didn't complain about it. A lesser man would probably have asked if he could leave class, but he kept his mouth shut. Connor had always been the "suffer in silence" type.

"Sorry," Edward muttered sheepishly, but shifted so he was blocking Connor and my view of Bella. Alice's grin was so wide that I wondered if her cheeks hurt.

Coach Clapp cleared his throat. "No more interruptions! We are not here to slip, trip, or knock each other around. We are here to swim. Is that understood?"

"Yes Coach Clapp," the class mumbled.

"Now, because I am unable to do this stroke properly, due to my recent injury, I have recruited Emmett Cullen to help me teach this class. Emmett? Where are you?"

"Right here," Emmett's booming voice said. He strode out of the equipment closet, carrying a stack of kickboards. Several of the girls in the class gasped, while several of the guys stifled laughs.

Emmett was wearing a yellow Speedo.

Of course, laughing at a two-hundred and sixty pound mass of muscle covering a six-foot-five frame is probably not the world's best idea. However, I had to admit that if anyone could pull off that fashion faux pas, it was probably Emmett.

"Why is it that Speedo makes the world's most modest girl's suits but the world's most immodest guy's suits?" Connor asked me in a low voice. "Shouldn't it be the other way around?"

"They make suits that are practical for swimming in," I retorted. "Shut your yap."

"Hey Angela! I think you're finally going to get to do that school newspaper story on Speedo padding on the swim team," Jessica giggled. The tall girl ducked her head and winced in embarrassment when Emmett shook his head, as if denying Jessica's accusation. _How'd he hear that?_

"Did _you_ pack Emmett's gym bag this morning?" Bella asked Alice suspiciously.

"Um…yeah. I thought it might be funny. And it is." The petite girl giggled. "How did you know?"

"Lucky guess." Bella surpressed a smile as her eyes wandering over her boyfriend for a moment. "You could have packed Edward's too you know," she said, blushing furiously.

"Never would have gotten away with it. He sees everything I see…remember?"

"And it's a good thing too. Otherwise, I would have been the butt of far more pranks over the years," Edward said, patting his sister on top of the head. "How can someone so tiny be so annoying?" Despite his sarcasm, and despite what sounded like a compliment from Beautiful Bella, he did look very relieved at the fact that he was not clad like his brother.

Emmett, not looking the least bit ashamed of his revealing swimsuit, jumped up onto the diving board and did a perfect double-somersault-pike-twist dive in to the water.

"Swoon," Jessica breathed, in awe, her brown eyes growing wide. "Oh _swoon!_"

"I want one," Ashley Beckman sighed.

"Show-off," Mike muttered, glaring in Emmett's direction.

"_Brilliant_ game-master," Eric sighed wistfully.

"Now, watch closely," Coach Clapp said, as Emmett began to swim. "Many people do the breaststroke entirely wrong, and as a result, there isn't enough force to propel the swimmers to the finish line."

"I never had trouble finishing," Connor snickered.

There was a good deal of inappropriate giggling at that comment, but Coach Clapp ignored it. "The biggest problem with the breaststroke is that people have a tendency to bring their hands all the way down to their sides. Emmett will demonstrate the _wrong _way to move your arms." At that cue, Emmett's arms moved fluidly and gracefully through the water, from above his head to down by his sides. The motion looked powerful. I didn't see what was wrong with it.

"Looks fine to me," Bella said, perplexed. "I don't see what's wrong with it." _Great minds think alike._

"_Very _fine," Morgan said. She sounded like she was hyperventilating.

"Very fine _indeed_," Jessica breathed in agreement. "Oh my wow. Can you say…whoa?"

"How about 'glutes'?" Ashley sighed.

"Show-off," Mike mumbled again.

"What Emmett is doing right now wastes a good deal of energy," Coach Clapp explained. "Because this is a lifesaving stroke, you want to conserve as much energy as possible so that you can keep swimming for as long as it takes to make it to safety or to endure in a longer race. What you actually want to do is to keep your hands out in front of you, sculling the water with small, circular movements, like this," he pulled his hands overhead and took them through the looping motions. "Watch Emmett do it." The enormous, dark-haired alumnus began to move his hands swiftly through the water, and his pace quickly increased.. He was obviously well practiced.

"See? Much faster!" Coach Clapp said. "Do the motion with me!" He brought his hands together and up overhead, before bringing them down to the level of his chin, then bringing them back up again. It reminded me of the _wax-on, wax-off_ from the old Karate Kid movies.

"Niiiiiiice…" Connor whispered to me, glancing towards Jessica, nudging me. The arm motions were causing a certain part of her anatomy to bounce. Mike shot him a dark look.

"The second mistake that people often do wrong when doing the breaststroke is that they spread their legs too far apart." Coach Clapp said. I couldn't help myself. I had to laugh at that one. The laughter was contagious. One by one, every student in the class began to crack up. Even Connor couldn't top that line.

Again, Coach Clapp ignored us. "The correct technique is to bring your heels up to your butt, before kicking down and around. You'll want to keep your knees as close together as possible."

"I thought this was gym, not abstinence-based sex-ed," Connor whispered to me. "Next he'll have us putting condoms on bananas." I shook my head, unable to stop myself from sniggering.

"Emmett, first demonstrate the right way to do this kick," Coach Clapp said. Emmett did so. I frowned, unable to figure out exactly how he got his hips to rotate that much. Heels to the butt, heels-out, down and around. "Now Emmett, show them the wrong way to do it." The second technique actually looked more comfortable to do, as his legs opened and closed like a pair of scissors. He looked mildly like a frog. "Kicking this way causes excess drag in the water. Don't make the same mistake! Remember, you don't want to exhaust your energy all at once. You'll go faster if you do it wrong…at first, but it will make you too tired, and ultimately, you won't last. You want to shoot through the water, straight and long, like a torpedo."

The word _straight _and _long_ caused another burst of immature laughter from the class.

"Come on Emmett! Show them! Straight and long!" Coach Clapp called.

"Please! _Do _show us!" Jessica whispered. Mike looked annoyed.

Emmett corrected his stroke, and began swimming properly, taking one deep breath with every stroke. Strangely enough, even through he kept bobbing his head up each time his arms sculled, he didn't seem to be taking much of a breath. Huh. I wondered how he'd gotten so good at swimming. He hadn't been on Forks swim team, and at Dartmouth, according to what Coach Clapp had said during the last gym class, when we did the discus throw, he was in track and field. I wondered how he avoided sinking like a rock, since he was solid muscle, with no fat to help him stay buoyant.

"All right everyone! Into the pool! Let's get started! Now that you know how to do it properly, we're going to practice. Faster swimmers, get into the far right hand lane. Slower swimmers, get into the far left hand. Medium swimmers in the middle. If you're somewhere between fast and medium or slow and medium, get in one of the other two lanes, slow on the right, fast on the left." The class sorted themselves. Eric, strangely enough, after all his displays of strength the previous week, put himself in the far right and smiled at Bella. Looking as though she was one of the few girls in the class who was not infatuated with Eric Yorkie, she chose the middle lane. Edward stayed with her. Not wanting to look overconfident by choosing the land on the far left, I chose the lane between the middle and the left. Connor and Mike, on the other hand, went to the far left.

"Begin!" Coach Clapp called. I pulled my goggles down over my eyes and jumped into the water.

Swimming was easy for me. Just another form of cardio. Forks Middle School used to have open swim every summer, and since it essentially equaled free baby-sitting, Mike, Eric, Connor, and I used to swim every afternoon. All summer long, while our moms got together to drink tea or crochet or do whatever it is that moms do when they get together, we were at the pool. I liked being in the water. It felt natural. Like I was a fish.

I glanced through my goggles, and under the water, saw Bella Swan swimming in the neighboring lane. Knowing that no one would see me do it, I checked her out as she passed me. _Nice. _Her body was so slender and willowy that it captured my attention in an instant. I appreciated the fact that didn't have that overdeveloped athletic look that so many girls worked so hard to achieve. Instead, there was something natural about her soft curves and slim lines.

_I wouldn't mind seeing this again, _I thought to myself. _I wonder if I can convince her to go to La Push with us next week. I'll let her know that it will be sunny, so she should bring something she could tan in. Maybe she has a "sunning" swimsuit that shows more than this darn thing. _The "beach with Bella" fantasy returned and I found myself swimming on autopilot, lost in the idea that one of these days, she'd just have to come to her senses and dump Edward Cullen.

_She's so beautiful…she could be mine._

WHACK

Suddenly, something hard hit my head with such intensity that it felt like I'd swum full speed, head first, into a brick wall. I felt the impact first, then a rush of pain. _What's happening to me? _I wondered. I felt my body sinking…sinking…and then everything went black.

* * *

­­­­­­­­­­­­­­

The next thing I knew, I felt a pair of soft lips pressed against mine. I felt someone blowing air into my lungs. It was the oddest sensation.

"He's still not breathing on his own!" Angela said, in a panicked voice above me. I felt a pair of icy cold hands on my chest, and then a crushing pressure against my ribs.

"_One-two-three-four-five-six-seven-eight-nine-ten-eleven-twelve-thirteen-fourteen-fifteen-sixteen-seventeen-eighteen-nineteen-twenty-twenty-one-twenty-two-twenty-three-twenty-four-twenty-five-twenty-six-twenty-seven-twenty-eight-twenty-nine-thirty!" _A deep voice counted, and I felt the compressions as something squashed my ribs, flattening my spine against the cold, hard tile over and over.

Angela's lips met mine once again, and I felt the air from her lungs entering mine. The sensation of air going down my throat made me choke, and I quickly sat up, coughing violently.

"He's okay!" Angela said, relieved. I sputtered, drawing in deep, choking breaths, which expelled a mouthful of water from my lungs. The coughing hurt my ribs.

"Ow," I said, rubbing my sternum. It felt like it'd been run over by a cement truck. "What the heck?" I looked up to see Emmett and Angela staring down at me with concern in their eyes. The rest of the class was gathered around, murmuring, except for Edward, who was sitting up on the bleachers, holding an ice pack to his head. He was surrounded by a group of girls who all looked very concerned about him, much to Bella's dislike.

"Ungh…what happened?" I asked blearily.

"You and Edward collided," Angela explained softly. You were each swimming too close to the center of your lane…so when you should have passed each other, you banged skulls instead. He complained of nothing but a bruise on his head when he came out, but you lost consciousness. Emmett pulled you out. You weren't breathing."

"I started rescue breathing," Emmett explained, staring at my neck with an odd expression on his face, as if trying to see if my pulse was still going. I realized his eyes were as weird as Edward's and shivered. "But…uh…was having a hard time with it. Cause…well…you know…well…"

"Wait…you…did mouth-to-mouth on me?" I said, horrified. Several girls giggled. _Great. Just great. Before noon tomorrow, all eight of my aunts are going to be talking about how I kissed Emmett Cullen. Ugh._

"Well, I started to, but then it was weird, cause…" Emmett swallowed hard. Edward was smirking from his place on the bleachers as he moved the ice pack to a different part of his head.

"Mouth-to-mouth can be really weird if you've never had to do it before," Angela offered in a sympathetic tone. "Especially on someone of the same gender. It was uncomfortable for me the first few times I did it, but I got over it, knowing that it was to save lives."

"Oh! Yes! That's it! That's totally it!" Emmett said, nodding vigorously. "I mean…not to sound homophobic or anything…but you know." He shrugged.

"No offense taken," I said, grateful that I'd been unconscious for whatever contact had occurred between me and the ginormous swimmer/track and field star/whatever. _Swapping spit with a dude. Sick. _I wiped my mouth as if it were covered in poison.

"Emmett Cullen can do mouth-to-mouth on me any time," some girl said in a low voice behind me, which was followed by some muted giggles and murmurs of assent.

"Anyways, I saw that Emmett looked uncomfortable with the rescue breathing, so I told him to do the chest compressions while I did the mouth-to-mouth," Angela said, checking me over, frowning at the bruises that were starting to form on my chest. "Research shows that two-man CPR has a better survival rate than one-man."

"You look like you're going to be fine now," Coach Clapp said to me in a relieved voice. "For a second, I thought we might lose you."

"I think you need to go to the ER though," Angela said in a worried voice. "You may have a concussion."

"Shouldn't Edward go to the ER too?" Bella asked pointedly, in a cross voice. "He could just as easily have a concussion."

"Naw. I'm fine," Edward said, standing quickly and tossing the ice pack aside. "No concussion here. Just a little bump."

"I think I'm fine too, my ribs hurt more than my head," I said, jumping to my feet as well. _What a weird day_. But as I straightened up, I felt my vision speckle and tunnel in, and for the second time that day, blackness took over.

* * *

The next thing I knew, I found myself in a strange, semi-conscious state, unable to tell what was reality and what were dreams. I heard the faint sounds of voices speaking around me, but it sounded like I was underwater. Was I back in the pool? There was a pricking on the back of my hand. My head was swimming, and I found myself unwilling to open my eyelids.

_Where am I?_ I wondered. I tried very hard, through the fuzziness, to identify the voices around me. With difficulty, I was able to make one out.

"—Should have known better than to attempt mouth-to-mouth on a human! What were you _thinking _Emmett? How could that possibly have been a responsible idea?" I recognized the voice: Dr. Cullen. He'd spoken at our school before on various occasions, and his musical, harmonious voice was hard to forget. _Am I in the hospital? _I wondered.

"I'm sorry! I totally thought I'd be able to do it," Emmett's voice said helplessly. "I wanted to be strong enough to do it! But then, when I saw that he had no pulse…it got me thinking about blood. And then I couldn't stop thinking about blood. And the thought of blood was driving me crazy!" _Huh. Emmett is afraid of blood. _I thought to myself._ He didn't want to do mouth to mouth, and maybe it was because he was afraid that I'd cough up blood. That _would_ have been gross. But why would he have tried to make up the fact that he was homophobic before if it was really because he as an aversion to blood? Nothing wrong with being squeamish around injured people...but why would you lie about something like that? _I imagined Emmett fainting at the sight of blood. _Man...he's huge. If anyone could crack the tile by falling on it, it would be him._Suddenly I wondered if Emmett was gay. _Okay…that's just really creepy._

"You could have killed him! In front of everyone!" Dr. Cullen said in an anxious voice. "Do you know what that would have done to our family?" _This is strange. Emmett was only trying to save my life. Just because he's not as accomplished lifeguard as Angela is no reason to treat him like a murderer…_

"Why are you yelling at me?" Emmett said defensively. "At least I was trying to preserve human life. _Edward_ was the one who kept slipping, tripping, and having _klutzy accidents _all day long!"

"Edward!" Dr. Cullen said, shocked. _Well that's just rude,_ I thought. _Yelling at your kid because he's not graceful. _Bella took a spill now and then – it was actually kind of cute.

"It's not my fault that I kept getting distracted," Edward growled. "Those boorish, brainless, human _dolts_ kept thinking inappropriate things about my future wife!"

_Huh? _My thoughts suddenly grew clearer and I listened with keen interest.

"But I thought Bella turned down your marriage proposal…" Emmett countered.

_Huh???_

"Yeah, but Alice is positive that she'll change her mind. In fact, she was so sure of it that she already booked Pastor Weber to do the wedding in August."

_HUH?!?!?! _None of this made any sense. _What in the world?_

"Alice is almost as presumptuous as you're overprotective and ridiculous!" Emmett said through gritted teeth. "You could have killed him with that collision of yours!"

_Okay…this really doesn't make sense._

"Guys shouldn't be oogling at Bella like she's something to eat," Edward said emphatically.

"I find the fact that _you _are saying that statement very ironic," Emmett said, amused.

"She's an eternal being who deserves love and respect."

"Eternal? Eh? So you've given in then?" Emmett sounded triumphant.

"Well…no. But we're trying to work out a compromise…"

_Could there be trouble between them?_ My mind drifted to a sunny beach, but every time I tried to imagine Bella in a bikini, my head ached.

"Enough you two! Emmett…you're going to tell Coach Clapp that you've gotten all the volunteer hours you need for your college program. Edward, I am writing a note to the principle excusing you and Alice from gym for the rest of the year due to medical problems!" Dr. Cullen said. "Her 'asthma' and your 'concussion' are going to be perfect excuses to get both of you out of the semester early. I can't have any more sprained ankles or broken windshields or ruptured spleens or concussions! This is beyond ridiculous!"

"But Dad! I _have _to stay in gym! What if something happens to Bella and I'm not there to protect her? Don't you get how anxious I get when I'm away from her? Humans are so fragile! Just look at how many of them have been injured this week!"

The music in Dr. Cullen's voice turned dark. "Every incident in gym has been caused by you and Alice! You're the ones she needs protection from!"

_This conversation is so weird, _I thought to myself. _Am I still dreaming? Did I just hear that Edward proposed to Bella and she said no but Alice already is planning the wedding? They're not even out of high school yet! And Emmett's afraid of something? I _have_ to be dreaming._

"I'm not dropping out, Dad. Something terrible must be about to happen tomorrow. Alice said that the entire gym hour was blacked out of her vision! She couldn't see a thing about tomorrow's class! She—oh crud. I wasn't paying attention. He's coming to….we've got damage control to do unless we want to end up as ash."

_Ashes? _I wondered, spinning into consciousness.

"Tyler? Are you awake?" A soft voice said, as a cold hand shook my shoulder. I felt my eyes open and looked around, disoriented. I blinked twice. Dr. Cullen was standing over me. Edward and Emmett were nowhere to be seen.

"Were Emmett and Edward just here?" I asked stupidly.

"Um…no." Dr. Cullen gave me a worried look with his eyes that were just as creepy as Emmett's. "They haven't been up to see you at all today. Why do you ask?"

"I just heard their voices!" I insisted, but the details of their conversation had already started to fade. "They were talking about the weirdest things…"

Dr. Cullen gave me a look like I was crazy, and shook his head. "No Tyler. You've been alone and unconscious here for the last two hours. You hit your head really hard in gym. You have a concussion, and you were in a lot of pain, so we had to give you some Vicodin. You're probably feeling pretty loopy."

"I didn't know Vicodin was a hallucinogenic," I said, letting my head sink back into the lumpy hospital pillow.

"Everyone responds differently," Dr. Cullen said with a nonchalant shrug. "Your x-rays showed that your skull is still intact, though Emmett cracked your ribs when he was doing CPR. We've had you on a few different pain killers. You could be reacting strongly to one or more of them."

"I have broken ribs?" I asked weakly.

"Just three. That happens all the time with CPR," he said quickly.

"Oh. When will I get to go home?"

"I'm going to keep you here overnight for observation," Dr. Cullen said, and a rush of déjà vu swept through me, and flashbacks to the day I almost killed Bella Swan rushed through my mind. "The CT scan showed no sign of bleeding on the brain, but he fact that you blacked out for so long was concerning. How do you feel now?"

"Weird," I admitted, with a laugh. "I can't believe that I was dreaming about Edward proposing to Bella. How far out is _that?_"

Dr. Cullen reached for my arm and gave me a shot of something. "Sleep now," he said softly. "In the morning you won't be able to remember anything."

"Um…okay," I mumbled, feeling my consciousness slip away as the drug began to take effect. My head felt very heavy, and it became very hard to think. I stared at the pale doctor and blurted out the first thing I could think of.

"Dr. Cullen, you shouldn't wear that much Max Factor Pancake foundation makeup with pink lipstick. It looks pretty bad on you. And you're using way too much hair gel. It's just not flattering. I thought you ought to know."

"I'll keep that in mind," he said in a slightly amused voice.

"All right doc. Good bye. Thanks for all the fish." I was starting to feel very sleepy. Very very sleepy.

"Rest well, Tyler. Rest well," Dr. Cullen said.


	12. Angela Runs Cross Country

_Author's Note: As usual, I must apologize for my delay in getting this chapter up. Real life has been very busy! I'm on staff with the site Twilighted dot net, and all the validating of fiction on there leaves me with less time to write. Furthermore, I recently found out that I'm pregnant, so I've been reading baby books rather than writing._

_This chapter gave me the same issues that Carlisle's chapter did. Because Angela is such a good-hearted person, I kept wanting to delve deeper into her character, and kept getting ten pages into the story and realize that I'd gone into her background without actually advancing the plot of the story. I had two different drafts that I threw out entirely after fifteen pages (one started with Angela at the breakfast table with her family, while the other involved a long Angela/Edward conversation at the picnic tables). While each version revealed her kindness and compassion, neither were fall-out-of-your-seat funny._

_The inspiration for this chapter came around when helping my best friend look for formal wear for her wedding. After trying on a zillion bridesmaids dresses, most of which were ugly, it struck me just how funny tux and dress shops could be._

_This is my longest chapter yet. Blondie helped me to cut back about a thousand words of it, but it's still monstrous. Hope you don't mind._

_Thanks a million to Blondie and saramomof5 for the beta work. Normal disclaimers apply._

**Angela Runs Cross Country**

"How much is this gift card for?" I asked, interrupted by the _Here Comes the Bride_ door chime as we walked into tuxedo shop.

"A hundred and fifty bucks. That should be plenty; we should be in and out of here in about ten minutes," Ben said with a grin.

This time last year, Ben had escorted me to the Prom in dress pants, a white shirt, and a thin black tie. Simple, but handsome. Much nicer than the baggy dark blue jeans with a hole in the knee, blue baseball cap, and black _Trogdor the Burninator_ t-shirt that he wore now. He still looked cute. Nerdy, but cute.

From the moment we walked into _Western Tuxedo_ however_, _the attentive, gray-haired salesman bombarded Ben with questions about cummerbunds, vests, pocket handkerchiefs, top-hats, suspenders, cuff-links, etc, etc, etc.

"I just want a normal tuxedo," Ben explained warily, shifting his weight back and forth like he always did when he was out of his element, looking a bit like a buoy, bobbing in the waves in the ocean. "You know…black pants. Black jacket. White shirt. A tie." I stifled a laugh. He was trying to recreate last year's outfit. _Why can't girls get away with wearing the same thing two years in a row? _I wondered.

We'd just spent two hours at the only major department store in Port Angeles while I tried on dress after dress looking for something new and stylish for the Prom. Ben hadn't been much help. He'd had his nose stuck in a comic book the whole time.

When I pressed him on one dress that I really liked, he'd rubbed his hand through his hair sheepishly. "To be honest, Ang, you kinda look like a Shadowhunter bride whose skirt got attacked by a Ravener demon halfway through her wedding." He cringed, peering over the top of his glasses, which had slid down to the end of his nose. The round, wire-rim spectacles made his brown, almond-shaped eyes look twice their size and twice as beautiful.

It was hard to be mad at him when he looked at me like that.

I'd settled on the classic 'little black dress,' happy that I had the money to cover it and the shoes. The bizarre prom court gift from the Pacific Northwest Trust had included a gift certificate for everything except a prom dress. I'd considered going to GoodWill, and looking for something used, when the funds had serendipitously come in.

"What color do you want the tie? Is it a bow tie or a straight tie? Do you want a matching vest?" the over-zealous salesman asked with the enthusiasm of chipmunk on espresso.

"Um..black for the tie. And…straight, I think. And whatever with the vest."

"Tails on the jacket or straight bottomed? Three buttoned jacket or two? And what sort of material would you like? Silky? Matte?"

"Actually, what I'd really like is a velvet, powder-blue number, with bell-bottoms. Preferably with a ruffled pink shirt," he said in a very serious voice.

The salesman's eyes lit up like a Christmas tree about to trip a circuit breaker.

"I have one of those!" he said excitedly. "I knew they'd make a comeback! Is that what you really want?"

Ben was cracking up. "Dude. I don't care."

"Thank you sir. I'll meet you in the third dressing room in five minutes with some options, including the blue suit. Have a look around in the meantime, and if you see anything that strikes your fancy, pick it up. I'll find it for you in your size."

We wandered past a row of yellow, purple, and green zoot suits, which were apparently all the rage with the swing-dancing crowd, followed by a row of pure white tuxes, which my dad had told me were very popular with African American men (the color would have looked terrible against Ben's golden skin). We came to the dressing room without seeing anything of real interest.

There were three tuxes in the dressing room already, waiting for Ben, including the ridiculous power-blue number.

"I'll be right back!" Ben said, ducking into the curtained cubicle.

I figured that while I was waiting for him, I might as well take a look around, to see if there was anything I wanted to add to his dressing rack, so I wandered through the less silly sections, and tried to find something nice. Since I was going to be in a classy little black dress, anything that _wasn't_ powder blue would work. Suddenly, I stopped, when I heard a beautiful voice.

"This is positively asinine, sis. I look like a carved penguin." The guy's voice was soft yet sharp, like a silk wrapped knife. The voice came from the other side of the rack I was wandering past. I stopped, fingering a gorgeous tux that looked like it was straight out of a James Bond movie, telling myself I was shopping. Truthfully, I was eavesdropping. The voice was familiar, and frankly, heavenly.

"But penguins are _in!_" an exasperated female voice said.

"Oh _really?_" the male voice said, in a tone that said _You've got to be kidding me_. "Where? Antarctica?"

The girl sighed. "Okay. So maybe penguins aren't 'in' yet. But they _will _be all the rage in the next couple of years. See, they're making this documentary called _March of the Penguins, _that's going to come out next year. It's going to make penguins very popular, you'll see. They'll be everywhere. Stuffed animals...key chains...coffee mugs...animated kids films with strong environmentalist messages and Brittney Murphy singing cover songs from Queen... "

_Penguins? Ick._

"You've got be kidding. Will they be on the menu, too?" the first voice asked pointedly.

The female voice had an audible note of confusion in it. "Menu? What the heck?"

"Bella suggested that we move to Antarctica, to avoid any messy mistakes when she's going those red-eyed sleepless nights. But whatever. Admit it…I look ridiculous in this thing."

_Bella?_ I recognized the two voices in that instant, with a start. _It's Alice and Edward Cullen. At school they usually speak in such careful, reserved, polite tones. Here, they're teasing one another playfully—totally at ease. What was all that about living in Antarctica? Huh?_

"Nonsense. You look fantabuliscious and you know it."

"Not as gorgeous as the bride is going to look…we've both seen how she looks in that dress…vibrant…heartbreakingly beautiful…_alive._" Edward spoke again, his voice thick as wool, sweet as honey, a study in contrasts. It was filled with sadness and happiness; hope and dread; triumph and defeat.

_Bride?_

Alice shrieked, and the distinctive sound of leather hitting silk hinted that she was whacking Edward with her purse. "You weren't supposed to peek! Darn it all! I'm going to have to get the dress redesigned and come up with a new hairstyle! Darn it! Why do guys always have to peek? You know it's bad luck."

_Bad luck? I must have missed something._

"Darn it? Don't you mean 'damn it'?" Edward asked sardonically.

"I gave up swearing for Lent two months ago and never picked it back up again."

He turned incredulous. "Since when do you celebrate Lent? I thought Carlisle was the only one in the family who did that."

"Since I found out about the fantastic Friday Fish Fries at Saint Mary's Cathedral, of course," she said in a half-serious tone.

Edward groaned. "Since when to we 'vegetarians' eat fried fish? Give me a break."

_I never knew they were vegetarians._ _That would explain why they never eat the cafeteria food._

A low hissing replaced their conversation, and I felt guilty for eavesdropping. I stepped out from behind the rack of clothes and found their eyes fixed on me, as if they'd been expecting me. Both were standing entirely still.

Edward was dressed to the nines in shiny patent leather shoes, silky black pants with a strip of glossy material running down the outside edge of each leg. He was wearing a coat with tails that would have made Ben look very silly, but on him it was stunning. A black bow tie smartly finished the look. The tux looked as though it were lifted from another era. The nineteen-twenties perhaps?

"Um…hi," I said, waving to the two of them. "Fancy seeing you here."

"I didn't see you come in," Alice said at exactly the same time as Edward said, "I didn't hear you come in."

"What are you getting a tux for?" I asked curiously. "Did you change your mind about going to prom?" Bella had told me that they'd been planning on skipping prom to see her mom in Florida, and that the tickets were non-refundable.

"No," Edward said, after a long moment of standing frozen, like a deer in the headlights. "Um…we're still going to Florida."

I frowned. "Then what's up with the tux?"

There was an extended pause, during which Edward and Alice went as still as statues.

"I'm sorry, it's really none of my business," I mumbled, feeling awkward. I noticed a bit of lint on Edward's sleeve, and he immediately flicked it away. "Just so you know, you do look great, Edward."

Finally, Edward swallowed and spoke again.

"I'm standing up in a wedding in August," he said smoothly, apparently recovering whatever it was that had surprised him before.

"So am I!" Alice said brightly. "I'm going to be the maid of honor!"

"Let me guess…Emmett and Rosalie are getting married?" I couldn't think of anyone else in Forks who could be considering marriage. Edward and Alice glanced at each other.

"I um…we…we're not actually supposed to say anything about it for another three weeks," Edward said uncomfortably.

"It's all very top-secret," Alice murmured.

"Please, don't mention it to a soul," Edward pleaded.

"Uh…okay, I guess," I said in a mildly confused voice. "Three weeks, Huh." All of the sudden, it clicked, and I gasped, eyes narrowing at Edward. "Wait a minute. Is this the August wedding that my dad's doing?" He'd given me the two hundred dollars that the couple had paid in advance to buy my dress for Prom. The payment had come at the most perfect timing.

"Um…yeah," Edward said, a little lamely.

"He wouldn't breathe a word to me about who it was! Wow! I can't believe Emmett and Rose are tying the knot! They're both so young."

Alice surpressed a smile. "Yeah. But you know what they say…you only live once."

"And Rose and Emmett know they'll only get to get married once," Edward added, nodding vigorously.

"And life is _so _short and fragile," Alice added, looking amused.

"So, surely, they must make every day count. I mean…it's not like they've got all of eternity or anything." Edward said, laughing.

My head bobbed between them like I was watching a ping pong match. "But…" I was confused. "What about college?"

"People can go to college while married," Edward said sharply, suddenly defensive. "Dartmouth has married housing."

"Finances?" I asked in a small voice.

"They'll scrape by. Sure, they'll struggle financially, but all young newlyweds do," Alice assured me, with a wave of her hand.

_Gosh, I wonder if they're planning kids…could she be pregnant?_ I wondered.

"Luckily, they aren't planning on having kids any time soon," Edward said lightly with a shrug.

"In fact, they're on a _very_ good birth control plan," Alice interjected, grinning.

My mouth fell open when they answered my unspoken question, but I was saved from my embarrassment by a voice behind me.

"Heya Angela! Whatcha think of this?" Ben called, from behind me. He walked forward, wearing what looked like a charcoal gray suit. It looked nice, more dressed up than I was used to seeing him. However, next to Edward's bow tie and tails, he looked positively casual.

"It's…okay," I said in a voice that plainly said that it didn't really do anything for me.

"Drat. I was hoping we'd be able to get the first one I tried on and get out of here."

"Go try something dressier," I suggested.

"All right."

When I turned my attention back to the Cullens, I was surprised to see that Edward had disappeared, leaving Alice standing there alone.

"He went to change," she said, jabbing a thumb towards the men's dressing room. Her eyes had gone distant and she looked worried, distracted…impatient even.

"Oh."

"We've gotta get going," she said in a dark voice, her mood abruptly sullen. She stared out the window. "It's getting dark fast. Pretty soon I won't be able to see a thing."

"I thought that's why they put headlights on cars," I laughed. I never would have dreamed of Alice or Edward being afraid of driving in the dark.

"Never mind," she said, before becoming very quiet, and suddenly standing a little too still.

"What's up with all the secrecy?" I asked trying to break her out of her weird funk. "I mean, sure, people getting married at nineteen isn't all that common any more, but it's not like they're still in high school or anything."

Alice didn't answer, but just kept staring out the window, as if all her hopes, dreams, and plans for the future had been stolen away, with a dejected expression of intense loss.

Presently, Edward reappeared, dressed in dark blue jeans and a white button-up shirt. Expressionless, he nodded toward Alice and joined her side.

"Farewell Angela," he said to me softly. He leaned closer to me, his dark gold eyes luminous. We were almost exactly the same height, and our eyes were only inches apart. His cologne was exquisite. I wondered where he'd bought it, and if it'd smell as good on Ben.

"Later," I whispered, suddenly a bit afraid, though I didn't know why. I felt my pulse racing.

"Please don't tell anyone…especially not Bella…okay?" he said with a soft, pleasant pleading.

"Sure," I said, finding it very difficult to breathe. _He's standing too close! _I instinctively took a step back. He nodded once, as if approving, staring at me with a peculiar intensity.

"Ta-da!" Ben yelled from behind, jerking me away from Edward's unnerving gaze. I whirled around to see him dressed in the powder blue, bell-bottomed, high-waisted velvet suit. The pink ruffles of the shirt made him look like an extra from _That 70's Show._ The awkward silence hanging between Edward, Alice, and me disappeared, as they burst out laughing; Edward's laugh deep and mirthful, Alice's pealing like a church bell.

"That suit!" Alice gasped, cracking up. "Edward! Do you remember…"

"Eleazar's wedding," Edward said between chuckles. "Of course! I swear--all the groomsmen wore those and thought they were so cool. You told them that they'd look back on those pictures one day and cringe."

"They didn't believe me, of course," Alice said smugly.

"What are you guys talking about?" Ben asked, strutting his stuff and pretending to be cool in front of the mirror.

"Sorry," Edward said, as if he realized that it is, of course, quite rude to share inside jokes in front of people who aren't in the know. "Alice and I have this older cousin, up in Alaska. A few um…_years_…ago, he got married and made all his groomsmen wear that exact outfit. Alice tried to point out how silly the idea was, but they all thought they looked great."

"You're kidding me," I said, looking at the revolting suit as though it were a piece of moldy cheese. "People voluntarily wore that? And not as a joke?"

"I kid you not," Alice said, grinning. "Even the bride thought those suits were hot."

"Your relatives have very odd tastes in clothing," I commented in as neutral of a voice as I could manage.

"They live in a very isolated part of Alaska," Edward said, as if that excused poor fashion. "They're not into much besides hunting."

"Do they fish?" I asked. Dad had taken me fishing in Alaska twice when I was a kid. It'd been fun.

"No," Edward said, looking very amused at the idea of his backwoods cousins fishing. "They're vegetarians."

I stared at him, but then decided to leave the subject of his herbivorous, hick, hunting relatives alone.

"So I take it this isn't the one?" Ben said, a mock pout on his face, splaying his hands out across the velvet material.

"It's…different," I said, mimicking the same thing he'd said when I'd been choosing my dress. I put quote marks in the air with my fingers as I said the word 'different.'

"Hey! 'Different', 'interesting', and 'unexpected' are all appropriate, neutral adjectives that managed to accurately describe your hideous prom dress choices without insulting them. Of course, those words also could accurately describe the _Star Wars Holiday Special,_ and that was, as everyone knows, embarrassingly awful." He made a face. "Half that movie was in Wookese, and there weren't even subtitles."

"My dress has _nothing_ to do with _Star Wars_," I sputtered, rolling my eyes. I had no idea what the _Holiday Special _was and hoped to remain in the dark.

"Everything in life has something to do with _Star Wars,_" Edward said, matter-of-factly, to Ben's delight. Ben held his hand out, and Edward gave him a fist bump. Ben promptly winced shook his hand like it hurt. _Serves him right._

"Too bad you don't have the matching platform shoes," I said. "Then I could have gotten the heels I'd wanted."

"Right...and towered right over me, Ang. We would've looked like Fezzik and Vizzini next to each other. You would've used me as an armrest."

"I'd never do that_,_" I insisted, not bothering to ask which Star Wars characters _Fezzik _and _Vizzini_ were.

"We need to go," Edward said suddenly, glancing up at the door with a concerned look on his face.

"Definitely," Alice agreed, seeming to remember that she was worried about something before. "It's gotten really dark out. Try the Armani, Ben," she said on her way out. "I think Angela will like it."

"Take care Ben…Angela," Edward said, nodding to each of us. "And good luck with Prom."

"Thanks," I said quietly, staring after them as they whisked out the door, graceful as the wind. The door's bell chimed as it shut behind them. A few minutes later, we saw the Volvo pull away at about a hundred miles an hour.

"You know…they're kinda…well…_weird_," Ben said to me, the moment they were gone.

I glanced over at him, eyeing his powder blue suit critically. "You know what my dad always says in his sermons about taking the plank out of your own eye before picking the speck out of someone else's?

He laughed, pirouetting around in the idiotic outfit. "Touché. I'll change."

As Ben turned to head to the dressing rooms, I noticed two extremely tall, dark, and handsome men enter the shop. They looked very much alike, like brothers, and vaguely familiar. I tried to remember where I'd met them before. They sauntered up to the counter, where the salesman was standing.

"Hello," said the first man. He sniffed the air, and then made a disgusted face. "Man it stinks in here. Smells like Ben-Gay."

"I don't smell anything," the salesman said, perplexed. I inhaled deeply through my nose. The store smelled fine.

"Doesn't matter," the man said, shrugging. "Anyways, my name is Sam Uley. I bought my suit for my wedding here, and was wondering if the alterations are done."

I suddenly placed the groom's companion. _That's Bella's friend Jake from the Indian reservation,_ I realized. _The one we were supposed to go out with the day Ben and I had the flu!_

"My goodness! You two are _tall!_" The salesman breathed. I groaned.

"Uh…yep," Sam said, looking mildly embarrassed that the clerk was stating the obvious.

"I mean…you guys are _really _tall!"

"We _know_," Jake said, rolling his eyes. "It's not like we never figured it out."

"You guys are two tall glasses of water, aren't you?"

"I guess we are," Sam said. He started fidgeting with his car keys impatiently.

"How tall _are _you?" the salesman asked, amazed.

"Jake is six-foot-seven, and I'm six-foot-eight," Sam said in a frustrated voice, glancing behind the counter. "Can I get my suit?"

"How did you get so tall?" I stifled a smirk. If only I had a nickel for every time someone said that to me!

"We drank milk when we were kids," Jake said wearily, agitated now. "Look. We're kinda in a hurry, so…"

"Do you play basketball?" the salesman asked suddenly.

"No! God! I hate basketball! Why does everyone ask us that?" Jake grumbled.

"I bet you kids could get some great college scholarships of you tried out for Division One!"

"No. We're only into running," Sam said, frustrated.

"Running is part of basketball," the salesman said hopefully.

"My TUX, _please_!" Sam growled, and the hair on the back of my neck stood up.

The salesman's eyes bugged. "Right away sir," he muttered, disappearing into the back room with Sam, leaving Jake half-amused, half-irritated at the counter.

"I get that too, you know," I commented. Startled, he glanced over at me, his eyes narrowing, trying to place where he'd met me before. I continued. "I'm terrible at basketball. I'm better at photography, swimming, and working with kids. Yet everyone assumes that just because I'm tall, I should play basketball…or at least volleyball."

There was something inviting and warm about Jake's dark eyes. They made me want to give him a hug. "Do I know you from somewhere?" he blurted out. "Wait, you're Bella's friend…from that day at the beach?"

I stuck out my hand, giving him a friendly smile. "Angela Weber. Nice to meet you again."

He shook it firmly, with just enough pressure. "Jacob Black. My pleasure." His hand was unusually hot…burning, as though he had a fever. I pulled mine away quickly.

"Have you seen Bella much lately?" I asked. "For the last couple of months, every time I tried to get together with her it seemed like she had plans with you. Now she's grounded, and I never see her outside of school."

"Grounded. Yeah. Whatever. More like her time's been monopolized by her possessive boyfriend." A pained look crossed his face, which turned into a scowl. "No point in trying now. She spends every second of every day with _him._"

I nodded knowingly, and was glad that Edward and Alice had left before Jake showed up. This could have been awkward if Bella's rival love interests had run into each other here.

"She must miss you," I said sympathetically. "I know you two got really close over the last couple of months."

Jake grunted.

"She told me that you don't return her phone calls, and that it makes her sad," I offered. This was true. Bella had mentioned it to me one time, when Edward was out of town on a camping trip with his parents one sunny Friday afternoon.

"Really?" his eyes lighted, and he looked a little hopeful.

I nodded. "You should try to see her as soon as you can. I think she'd be glad of it."

"Wow," Jake said pensively. I suddenly felt shy and a little embarrassed. I didn't know what else to say to him. Jake didn't have anything to say either. We stood there in silence for another minute.

"Okay Ang! Third time's a charm!" Ben said, as he strolled into the lobby area. My breath caught in my throat. He was wearing one of those tuxes that were popular in the nineties, complete with tails, black cummerbund, and a bow tie. Sharp pleats framed the buttons of his shirt, and when he put his hands in his pockets, his jacket opened, revealing a black pair of suspenders.

"Very nice," I said, oogling a little.

"It does look very classy," Jake agreed.

"Whether it's the best or not, I'm tired of shopping, so let's get out of here," Ben said. He glanced at his watch. "I want to make it home by seven. Eric and Austin wanted to play _Lord of the Rings Trivial Pursuit_."

"Meh, _Lord of the Rings,_" Jake said with a snort.

"What?" Ben squawked, visibly upset that Jake didn't worship the ground that Hobbits walked on.

"The second movie was so fake," Jake continued. "Those giant wolves looked all wrong. Their faces were all squished and their tails looked kinda stubby. If I were a giant wolf, it'd piss me off if people thought I was that ugly."

"They _did _look a little off from the way I imagined them from the book," Ben allowed. "But that's no reason to hate the movie. I mean…the action and the stunts were amazing!"

"I love you Ben," I said, grinning, putting my arm around him. "Even if you _are_ a bit of a nerd."

_______________________________________________________________________

The next morning I woke to the home phone in the kitchen ringing noisily. Groggily, I glanced at my digital alarm clock. _Five-fifteen. Who in the world could be calling this early? _I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and stumbled to the kitchen. Hopefully the ringing wouldn't wake my parents or the twins.

I answered the phone on the fourth ring. "Hello?" I said hoarsely.

"Good morning, Angela!" Jessica Stanley's bubbly voice sang, with far more cheer than I felt like anyone had a right to at this awful hour.

"It's five in the morning," I complained. "Why are you calling? The sun's not even up yet!"

She chuckled. "You were on my list of people to call on the phone tree."

"The what?" I asked blearily.

"You know…it's the school's way of getting news through the whole student body if there's an announcement that needs to be made outside of school hours."

"Oh. Am I supposed to call anyone?"

"Um…don't you have a copy of the phone tree list?"

"I don't think so. Why do you ask?"

"Hmph. Well, according to this copy, it looks like you're supposed to call Lisa Yarst and Ted Zelmer…that's it."

"Dang," I said with a yawn, leaning against the wall for support. I was dying to get back to bed. "I don't even have their numbers."

"If you want me to call them instead, I think I'm more awake than you," she chirped happily.

"Thanks," I said gratefully. "I owe you for that. I need more sleep."

"Not a problem."

"Right. See you at school."

"WAIT!!!" she screamed into the phone, causing me to jump like a kernel of popcorn in a microwavable bag.

"What?" I said, mildly chagrined.

"Don't you want to know what the news is?" she asked.

"Oh. Right." I examined my pajama top, smoothing the wrinkles. "Sorry. I'm really not with it before six, I guess."

"You'll never guess what happened," she said, in her favorite juicy-gossip voice. "The pool sessions are canceled."

"What???" I said, squinting. My contacts weren't in yet and my vision was blurry, which always made it hard for me to concentrate, for some reason. "Was it because of Tyler's accident with Edward?"

"No!" she squealed. "The pool is contaminated!" She paused dramatically. "Someone…no one knows who…but SOMEONE…"

"Yes?"

"_Pooped_ in the pool!"

My position changed from leaning against the wall to sitting on the floor, as my legs lost strength beneath me and I slid down. "You're kidding. Right?"

"I'm dead serious! The night janitor found the turd last night and confirmed that it was _not _a Baby Ruth bar. No one knows whether it's a senior class prank or if someone did it during class. But either way, it doesn't look like the guys will be oogling us in our swimsuits any more."

"Oh no!" I said melodramatically, holding the back of my hand to my forehead. "No guys staring inappropriately! Woe to us! What are we going to do?"

"Tell me about it!" Jessica said in an exasperated voice. I wondered if she'd picked up on my sarcasm. "I mean…I spent sixty bucks on my new swimsuit! It makes my boobs look great!"

I pressed my lips together, politely resisting the urge to let her know that her boobs actually had looked close to falling out of the suit and that I'd worried about the top half coming untied during the whole hour.

"I don't think it happened during our class," I mumbled, trying hard to keep my eyes open.

"Why do you say that?" she asked.

"Because everyone was out of the pool after the incident with Tyler, and no one saw any taper-tailed brown-trout _then, _did they?"

Jessica snickered. "No one was paying attention to the water. How do you know that it wasn't Tyler or Edward who freaked out and dropped the load in the water?"

Somehow, Edward Cullen pooping in the pool just seemed like an impossibility, though I couldn't exactly say why. "I don't know," I said, leaning my head back and closing my eyes.

"Well, anyway, there will be more time to speculate later. I've gotta make more calls after you. The most important thing for you to know is that we're going to be running cross-country on the trails behind the school. It's going to be cool out today, so Coach Clapp said to bring sweatpants and a long-sleeved shirt so that you don't get too chilled. Bring good running shoes too. Okay?"

"Great. Go make those other phone calls, Jess."

"I will!" she said, a little too loudly and a little too cheerfully. I knew gossip was her favorite thing in the world, but this seemed a little extreme. "See ya at school."

As I hung up, I had to laugh as I passed the fridge. Stuck to the front of it, with a magnet, was my dad's Bible verse of the day. This one seemed particularly fitting.

_Proverbs 27:14 "A loud greeting early in the morning is the same as a curse."_

Smiling to myself, I rolled back into bed, glad that my alarm wouldn't go off for another hour and a half.

At lunch, I took my usual place at one of the long lunch tables with Jessica, Mike, Ben, Edward, Alice, Eric, Katie, Connor, and Bella. It was roomier than usual, since Tyler and Lauren were both still in the hospital.

"So how was dress shopping?" Jessica asked me, after we'd spent some time speculating about the poop-in-the-pool situation. "Did you find anything you wanted?"

I nodded. "Yeah. Classic little black dress.

"Those never go out of style," Alice commented brightly. "Why, I have this vintage dress from the nineteen-seventies that I still wear to special occasions!"

"I just got my tux," Mike said, flicking the top of his Mountain Dew bottle around. "I decided to go with a white coat and black pants."

"It looks so sexy on you," Jessica purred.

"I picked up mine yesterday," Ben said, between bites of Sun Chips, "after Angela got her dress."

"I had a great time at prom last year," Edward said wistfully, leaning the chin of his beautiful, pale face in his slender fingers of his right hand. His elbow rested on the table, next to his untouched food. He sighed, and like the day before, I noticed that even his sighing contained a softness covering some kind of heaviness.

"I had a great time too!" Alice said. "I had such a good time dolling Bella up!"

"And she looked awesome." Edward squeezed Bella's hand. "I don't think anyone can ever forget their first prom with their first love." He kissed the back of her hand. She blushed.

_Bella's his first girlfriend? _I thought, surprised. He was so handsome that the information was a bit shocking. He could probably have anyone he wanted. Then again, so could Bella. The boys at Forks High never seemed to stop watching her.

"Speaking of tux shops, you'd never guess who we ran into yesterday," Ben said to Bella.

"Who?" she asked, rubbing the back of Edward's hand against her cheek.

"That tall friend of yours from the Indian reservation! You know…the one we were supposed to go on that group date with, back when Angela and I got the flu?"

Both Bella and Edward froze. Alice visibly tensed up. Bella let go of Edward's hand, then blinked a few times, unnerved.

"You saw Jake yesterday?" she asked edgily. Her brown eyes dodged back and forth. Edward's eyes bored into her, as if he were trying very hard to read her expression. I ducked my head, feeling very sorry for Bella.

"Yeah," Ben said, laughing. "He was at the tux shop where his friend Sam—who's apparently engaged—was getting alterations done for his wedding." He frowned, making a face of distaste. "Jake had some really whacked out ideas about how the giant wolves in _Lord of the Rings _looked all wrong, but other than that, he's a cool guy."

"He was very nice," I said, carefully watching both Bella and Edward's reactions, trying to figure out if I should guard the conversation from going in a certain direction.

"We should plan another group thing with the kids from the reservation again," Ben said enthusiastically. "Since the group thing to the movies didn't work out. Do you remember that night?"

"I'll never forget that night," Bella said distantly. "That was the night that Jake…" she faltered, her voice trailing off.

"Anyways, Jake and Sam seemed really cool. I'd like to get to know them better," Ben jumped in, preventing her from having to explain what had happened with Jake the night we couldn't make it to the movie.

"They are cool," Bella said softly. "I've known the Blacks since I was in diapers. Jake's pretty much family."

Edward's jaw clenched when she said Jake's name. Obviously, he was uncomfortable with Bella's familiarity with Jake, and I realized that if the conversation continued, Ben would undoubtedly mention seeing Edward at the tux shop, too. That would be bad. I quickly jumped into the conversation.

"So, Edward! While all the rest of us are going to Prom, you're going to be enjoying the sunny weather down in Jacksonville, right?"

He shot me a grateful look, as though I'd just rescued him from instant death, before launching into all sorts of minutia about his and Bella's trip. He seemed very nervous; talking so fast that no one else could get a word in edgewise. Halfway through his monologue, I glanced over at Alice, who looked even paler than usual (if that was possible). She had her head slumped in her hands as if she had a headache.

"Do you need an Advil or something?" I asked her quietly, reaching for my purse.

"Ugh. No." She shook her small head, her spiky black hair swishing. "I'll be okay."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. It's a tension headache."

"Not a migraine then?" I asked, concerned.

"Well, my vision seems a little blurry, but I've had these before. Stress from finals…you know. It'll pass."

Curious about Jake and Bella, I tried to figure out a good place to talk to her alone. I'd always gotten the impression that things were platonic between them, so I couldn't figure out why there was such tension between Edward and Jacob. Unless Edward was jealous of the time Bella spent with this other guy—this really tall, really good looking guy with a really great personality—and felt threatened by him, there was no need for this kind of awkwardness. Something else must be up. I decided that the girl's locker room would probably be my safest bet to bring the topic up without Edward listening in

Feeling shy, I approached Bella cautiously. She was standing in front of the mirror, pulling her long brown hair into a ponytail. "Sorry about Ben bringing up Jake at the lunch table," I said apologetically. "I could tell that that was awkward."

Bella sighed and bent down to tie her tennis shoe. "Don't worry about it, Ang. It wasn't your fault."

"If you ever need someone to talk to about it, you know I'm here for you," I offered.

She nodded. "Thanks, but I don't know how much you'd really understand."

"That's not the point," I said sympathetically. "The point is that I'll listen."

She smiled softly, and squeezed my hand. "Thanks. I may have to take you up on that." Together, the two of us walked out to where the trails into the woods behind campus began. The rest of the class had already gathered and were stretching and talking.

Coach Clapp sat in a golf cart, atop a tall cushion. Emmett Cullen stood, clipboard in hand, next to him. Emmett had a whistle around his neck, his long white tracksuit giving his pale skin a little more color than usual.

"Good afternoon class!" Coach Clapp said. The chatter slowed, like a freight train coming to a stop.

"Today's work-out session is simple. To my left, you see an entrance to one of the trails that winds through the school property. The trail is a two-and-a-half-mile loop, if you stay on the main trail. Please watch the signs. If you see a fork in the path, follow the blue marker. The other colored markers will take you onto trails that do not lead back to the school. If you take a wrong path, you may end up in the woods for longer than you may like. You have the entire hour to finish the loop. You may run or jog, but please refrain from walking. If you finish in less time, you can hit the showers and have some free time before your next class. Any questions?"

It was pretty obvious what Coach Clapp was doing. In the absence of the ability to walk or properly referee any sport, he was picking an activity that required minimal supervision. No one asked any questions; the prospects of getting out early cheered the class, most of whom had senioritis something fierce.

"Emmett will start the run. I doubt that anyone in this class will be able to pass him." Emmett waved cheerily, dimples deepening. "Try to stay within sight of the students ahead of you so that no one gets lost. Begin!" Coach Clapp yelled. Emmett took off into the dark, mossy forest, followed by Mike and Connor. The rest of the class took off in a pack. I stuck close to Bella, hoping for a chance to talk to her more. Her pace was slow, but I didn't mind. It would give us more time together. Struggling to find something that would take her mind off of the Jacob/Edward thing, I brought up something totally unrelated.

"Ben and I were hiking last weekend, and we thought we saw another giant bear thing," I said. We'd been out for a picnic just south of First Beach in La Push, when we'd noticed the animal standing about fifty yards away from us. I'd never been so scared in my life! It was all I could do to keep from screaming. Before I could really make out its appearance, it'd vanished, like it was sorry it intruded on our picnic. It was the oddest thing."

Bella's head snapped up. "What color was the wolf?" she asked suddenly.

"Huh? Um…black I think. Why do you ask?" I frowned as we jogged. "And what makes you think it was a wolf? It looked way too big to be a wolf. I was thinking that it must be a grizzly."

"Sorry." Her forehead furrowed, tiny creases forming between her eyebrows. "My dad's on the team of people who've been trying to track them down. So many people have disappeared, you know."

I nodded. "So there's more than one of them?" I asked.

She grimaced. "It looks like there's a whole pack of them. At least five, maybe more." She was breathing hard, having a hard time talking as we ran. I was in better shape, from the swimming, and was probably keeping too quick a pace for her. I consciously slowed down.

"Are they different colors?" I asked curiously. "I thought that grizzlies were just light brown. Or did your dad say that they are some kind of giant wolf?"

"I don't know," she said softly. "But I'm not too worried about Charlie. He can take care of himself."

We jogged for a while in comfortable silence, following the blue markers. The rest of the class was ahead of us a ways, and our voices were the only ones I could hear. After a few minutes, I talked a bit about Prom, while she talked a bit about her upcoming trip with Edward. I loved the way her eyes sparkled as she said his name. It was clear that what they had was real and true. It resonated with me, and I thought of Ben.

As we ran, the trail sloped up the hill. I didn't notice at first--but the more times Bella stumbled, I realized the trail had become more and more littered with branches and rocks. It didn't look like anyone had run this way in a long time. Suddenly, I stopped running and looked around me. Bella did likewise.

"Angela?" she asked, suddenly afraid. "Where are we?" I looked far ahead of us on the path, and could neither see nor hear any of our classmates. I glanced around wildly.

"I think we must have taken a wrong turn," I said, ducking under a branch that was too low for my six-foot frame to fit under.

"Crap. We must have missed a sign somewhere. We'll need to turn around, I guess," Bella said.

I spun around, but nothing looked familiar. "Um…we are officially lost," I said, heart sinking. I didn't want to be late for my next class, and at this rate it looked like we were going to miss it all together.

"I hate being lost in the woods," Bella muttered. My mind flashed back to that terrible day the previous fall that she'd been lost in the woods for hours on end, while the whole town was out looking for her with flashlights—the day the Cullens left.

"I do too," I said. "You never know what you'll encounter out he—" I didn't have time to finish the sentence, however, because at that moment, something happened that I never would have expected, even in my wildest dreams. A pair of shiny black eyes the size of baseballs poked out of a huge fern right next to Bella.

I gasped in horror. I backed away from the monster step by step, my heart thudding, adrenaline rushing, and found myself banging the back of my head against the branch I'd just ducked under. Ears ringing, head throbbing, I stumbled to my knees.

"Are you okay?" Bella asked, reaching down to help me up.

"What is _t-t-that? _I stammered.

"What?" Bella asked.

"That huge animal," I whispered, hand shaking, pointing at the beast that was standing just behind her.

"A rodent of unusual size?" she grinned, trying to pull me to my feet. "I don't believe they exist."

"Bella…look behind you," I whispered, feeling faint. She whipped her head around, her ponytail hitting me in the face.

The creature was beautiful and terrible. I'd always pictured wolves as being the size of dogs. This one was as tall as me, and at least seven feet long. It had long, shaggy, reddish-brown fur. Its eyes were huge and pitch black, like liquid globes of intelligence...but…_my, what big _teeth_ you have._

Seized with fear and unable to move, I froze in my spot, sorry that I was going to be eaten alive without a chance to tell the twins how much I really loved them. I prayed that we'd make it out of this situation alive.

Bella, on the other hand, reacted to the beast in exactly the opposite manner. Slack-jawed and slightly awed, showing no fear—only fascination—she slowly approached it. Her steps were careful, and her hands shook as she advanced, though the shaking appeared to be out of excitement, rather than terror.

"What are you doing?" I cried. "Get back here! It could hurt you!"

"No it won't," she said softly. "I'm positive of that." She sounded actually _happy _to see the beast! _Maybe I hit my head harder than I thought and this is all a really bad dream, _I hoped.

"Hello there," Bella said softly to the thing.

_My goodness! _I thought, heart pounding furiously. _This girl's instincts are entirely backwards! Why isn't she screaming in terror? Doesn't she have any fight-or-flight response at all? _Before I could yell at her to get back, Bella was standing nose to nose with the creature, mere inches away from its face.

"It's good to see you," she breathed.

The creature let out a small whimper and lowered its bottom to the ground, sitting on its haunches. Its tongue lolled out of its mouth, content and seemingly pleased at the attention she was giving it.

"Bella!" I screamed. "Get back from that thing!"

Ignoring my plea, she actually reached out and stroked the beast. She petted the fur on the top of its head, between its pointed ears, as though it was her pet dog. "You're sort of beautiful, you know?" she said to it, smiling. The thing jumped up in excitement, pawing the ground and wagging its bushy tail wildly. It let out a small howl, and Bella giggled.

"You didn't have anything to do with the pool, did you?" she asked.

"BELLA! GET BACK!" a seething voice said, from behind us. I whirled around and was stunned to see Edward standing there, shock and revulsion written across his face.

"Edward? How did you find us?" I wondered out loud, though the adrenaline pulsing through my arteries couldn't care less. I worried now that Edward might get eaten alive along with us.

Edward ignored me and (not unkindly) shoved Bella out of the way of the beast and stood to face it head on. It snarled at him, revealing long, pointy fangs.

"Go home," Edward yelled. "You don't belong here. You're over the line!" I'd never seen Edward like this before. He looked positively inhuman in his wrath. He was shaking head to toe, but not from fear (like I was), or excitement (like Bella had been), but with pure, unbridled anger.

The enormous wolf-thing crouched, as though ready to spring at Edward. He stood his ground, crouching in a similar manner, as though he meant to fight the thing.

"Stop it!" Bella cried, standing between her boyfriend and the russet-colored monster. "Don't hurt him! Please!" _Why is she trying to reason with an animal? _I wondered to myself. The animal must have responded to her in some way, however, because it broke out of its stance and eyed her sadly. It reminded me of the way _King Kong _used to act towards that annoying screaming blonde woman in the nineteen-thirties film: intrigued, even adoring, yet confused and frustrated.

"Go, NOW," Edward growled.

"Please go home," Bella begged. To my surprised, the creature turned and ran from us. About thirty yards away, it glanced over its shoulder, gave a long howl, and then it was gone.

Finally able to breathe normally again, I leaned against a tree, my legs no longer able to adequately support me.

"Are you girls all right?" Edward asked, his troubled eyes filled with concern.

Bella glared at him. "What do you think you were doing? Trying to provoke him like that? He wasn't going to hurt us!"

"Bella!" I shrieked, bordering on hysterics. "We just encountered one of those…_things_…that's been killing off the hikers, and instead of staying perfectly still or running away, you tried to pet it! What's wrong with you?" I was hyperventilating now.

"What _is _wrong with you?" Edward asked her, looking more upset than before. "You could have been killed!"

"I was just...I just needed to…I mean, I was curious," Bella stammered. Her face was red, and her eyes were filling with tears.

Edward peered at her, first with exasperation, then with tenderness. "Come on girls. Let's get back to school. Are you okay Angela?"

I nodded. "Just shook up."

"Let's go then."

The rest of the run was completely silent. Edward led us back onto the loop trail that we'd gotten away from, and from there we jogged smoothly back with no other complications other than Bella tripping over roots and occasional stones. I spent the time pondering over what had just taken place. Though the encounter was frightening, I couldn't help but feel as though Bella was right about the wolf. It hadn't snapped, threatened, growled, or even bared its teeth until Edward arrived and started yelling at it. I couldn't blame Edward for his actions—if I'd caught Ben trying to pet some grizzly bear or moose, I'd probably yell at the animal to get away as well. But why _had _it left us alone? Was it just curious, rather than after a meal?

We broke through the forest to find Emmett and Ben standing next to the golf cart, next to Connor, who was on the ground, moaning. Coach Clapp was snoring loudly in the driver's seat, drool running out of the corner of his mouth.

"Angela, you're safe!" Ben said, wrapping his arms around my waist. "I was so worried."

"Are you guys okay?" Emmett asked, his eyes darting from me, to Edward, to Bella.

Bella glared at her boyfriend. "Yes, we're FINE," she snarled.

An uncomfortable silence fell between us. Connor groaned, and I noticed some bruises on his face. It looked like a black eye was forming. "What happened to you? Did you fall, Connor?" I asked. I'd never been close to Connor, but I hated to see anyone I knew suffer.

"Connor thought it would be funny to rearrange some of the trail markers. That's why you got lost," Edward said angrily, his eyes flashing at the jock, who was miserably clutching his stomach…the wind knocked out of him. "When I heard him bragging about what he'd done, I knew that you two could be in trouble, so I ran back to look for you."

"You didn't punch him…did you?" Bella gasped, staring at the Connor's puffy lip and swollen eye.

"No, but I wanted to," Edward said, clenching his fist. Connor cowered behind Emmett. "Ben beat me to it."

I looked down at the tousled mop of jet-black hair pressed against my shoulder. "Ben?"

He looked up at me with eyes that burned so hot they could melt glass. "He put you in danger, Ang. I couldn't stop thinking about you getting hurt! And…well…"

Emmett laughed. "Ben flew at Connor like a Ninja! He had him flat on the ground before I could say _hi-ya_, and let me tell you, that's _fast_!"

_My Ben hit Connor? He took on a guy twice his size for me?_ I bent down to reach his ear. "You're a fool, taking on a guy that big, but I love you." I kissed his ear, then leaned back to see red coloring his cheeks.

"It took three of us to pull him off," Edward added, putting his arm protectively around Bella. "I think Newton might have gotten a black eye in the tussle, too." Edward grinned happily as he mentioned Mike. I'd never understood why Edward felt threatened by Mike Newton; it was obvious who Bella wanted.

Bella hit Edward in the stomach, and then cringed, holding her hand to her chest. "Ow. I'm…um…going to get changed," she said, her tone biting.

Emmett chuckled. "Alice says you'll get changed soon, Bella, so cheer up."

Edward glared at him, and for the thousandth time, I felt like I was left out of some inside joke…a feeling I often got around Ben, Austin, and Eric when they were talking _X-Men._

It was at that moment that I realized that it was because of Emmett that I'd have a dress for the prom. I knew that Alice and Edward had said that the engagement was secret, but I felt like I had to thank him, somehow.

"Hey Bella? I need to stop over and check something out with Emmett. I'll meet you back in the locker room. Okay?"

"Sure." She waved goodbye, and then began her trudge back to the school.

Tucking my hair behind my ear, I approached Emmett and the unconsciously salivating coach.

"Heya Emmett," I said.

Emmett looked up, surprised that I was talking to him.

"What's up, Angela?" he said, giving me a huge grin, displaying pearly white, very shiny looking teeth. I stepped back, surprised. I'd never been this close to Emmett before; he was almost as big as Sam and Jake. If only I could slip some of whatever made them grow so much into Ben's Diet Coke

"I know this is all supposed to be top-secret and everything, but I wanted to thank you and Rosalie from the bottom of my heart for paying my dad in advance for the wedding."

He waved his hand. "Don't mention it," he said. "Though technically it was Alice who wrote the check to him."

"I was able to use the two-hundred bucks to get a dress and shoes for prom," I explained. "I couldn't have afforded it if you hadn't paid for the wedding."

He beamed at me. "Always happy to help good people fall in love," he chuckled.

"Congratulations on your engagement," I said. "I'll make sure to keep it a secret. I know my dad isn't spreading it around."

"My engagement?" he said, bewildered. "I think you've got it wrong. Rosalie and I aren't getting married in August. Bella and Edward are the ones who wanted—"

"Who wanted the wedding to be in August," Edward interrupted, appearing out of nowhere. "But you two lovebirds can't bear to wait any longer, and have been trying to move it up to July. I'm sorry, big brother, but that's just not going to work. You know that Alice won't have time to get the bridesmaids dresses ordered if we have it that early."

"I—huh?" Emmett said, clearly perplexed, scratching his head.

"Rosalie will look stunning in a wedding dress, of course, as always," Edward said, talking entirely too fast. "But enough about that. You'd never guess this Em! Angela and Bella almost got attacked by this giant wolf in the woods!" His tone turned ominous at the word 'wolf.'

"No way!" Emmett said, his eyes narrowing at his brother, but going along with his conversation. "How big was it?"

"THIS big!" Edward said, holding his hands wide apart, like a fisherman bragging about his latest catch. Now he seemed to be joking about the monster we'd encountered. Wasn't he afraid of anything?

The conversation didn't look like it was going to get back to the wedding stuff (which I'd promised to keep secret anyway), so I excused myself and walked back to the locker rooms, wishing that I had a clue as to what the heck was going on.

_Just another day in Forks, _I thought wryly.


End file.
